Die Gedanken sind Frei
by adrenalynn1986
Summary: This story is about Bo and Lauren in a psychiatric ward with some other Lost Girl characters. This is no light reading, so be warned. Read authors notes for more info. Rated M just in case...
1. Chapter 1

**This story contents violence, bad language and some political utterances.**  
 **I have no intention to hurt anybodies feelings or persuasions.**  
 **So no offense!**

 **A big... huuuge thanks again to my Beta EmCelle!**

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

 _Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie erraten,  
(Thoughts are free, who can guess them?)_

 _Sie fliegen vorbei wie nächtliche Schatten.  
(They fly by like nocturnal shadows.)_

 _Kein Mensch kann sie wissen, kein Jäger erschießen  
(No man can know them, no hunter can shoot them)_

 _mit Pulver und Blei: Die Gedanken sind frei!  
(with powder and lead: Thoughts are free!)_

* * *

 **(Lauren)**

It was gone, the fast tapping of footsteps, lost somewhere in the empty stairway, but the echo remained steady in her mind and didn't slow down.

 _1 Etage;_ was written on the wall.

She climbed the stairs, two at a time. The phone call she had received earlier made her unsure of what she would be in for upon arrival at her destination.

Being on call sometimes meant to react fast. Today's' shift was a rather quiet one and so she headed to the on-call-room in the basement to get some discharge letters done. She was absorbed in her work that when her phone vibrated on her belt and the basic ringtone went off she got up with a start.

The receptionist put the police officer straight through to her phone. The information she got wasn't enlightening. That happened when some rookie thought they would rule the world and were too self-absorbed to offer much help. In some cases the officers left without the reassurance that the patient even arrived at the secure unit. She had heard phrases like _'We're in the hospital, now you are the one responsible'_ or _'My job is here done'_.

This time wasn't any different. About half an hour later she got informed that the police was in the building and that they handed over the patient to the nurses of the secure unit. They said something about some homeless female sleeping at the river near by who tried to run away when the local police on patrol got closer. She was rambling weird phrases the constables couldn't figure out. _'Maybe drugs were involved'_ , was the most of information Lauren had obtained of the men in blue.

The nearer she got the more she could hear people shout. She could make out a deep and demanding voice of a man yelling to stop struggling mixed up with screaming of a female one to shut the fuck up and leave her alone.

It was almost eight in the evening and she was the one responsible for four psychiatric units, three with open doors and one secure unit, the latter was the one she was heading to.

It was her eighth year in the small clinic on the outskirts of town. At first, she had been a member of an exchange program. It was meant to be for one year. An exchange of knowledge about different types of treatment of mental illness and to develop new standards for inpatient wards.

She could remember the feeling of writing her letter of application. A mix of adventure and the hope of something new, something better. The urge to move was getting stronger with every day she woke up to the view of the life she once used to love. She wanted to get away of that daily routine of sleep, eat, work and to do something bigger than that. Something more important. Her job at the hospital was a bore. She was more occupied with the administration behind the scene and than to actually work at the patient herself.

After the last member of her family, her uncle, had died all of the families' property went into the bills he left unpaid. He had been a reformed alcoholic with the addiction to gambling. It wasn't a surprise when the police called, on that cloudless and rather warm night in early march to inform her of his death. They told her that he was found next to a dozen empty bottles of various booze. She knew he had been drinking for several months again. She couldn't blame him. He lost his brother and sister in law, her farther and mother, in a car accident two years back. Her father had been his fixing point. The only constant left in his life. They had been foster children and had never known who their parents were or why they were left behind. Though she never felt close to her fathers' brother, she hadn't wished for him to leave like this. It hadn't been easy for her either. The only thing that kept her sane was her work. The more the better. At this time it was a blessing that she hadn't had to face the patient in person.

The only thing she could save from the claws of the Canadian judiciary was a piece of land with a small, old, ruinous house on it near Toronto.

Her last relationship broke apart when her former lover started to realize that there was no heritage to snaffle. The money a doctor in her position received wasn't as much as that magpie she shared more than just her bed with, hoped for. No Porsche, no finca in the south pacific, no shopping trips to Paris. So she was left behind. Again.

With no one left to rely on she decided to give it a try. The house had been sold at a bargain price and with the letter of confirmation of the head of department in hand, she packed the last of her belongings and got on the plain.

She had been to Germany before, twice actually. Her grandmothers' family had lived there once. They had settled down from Poland after World War one. Her grandmothers' father had worked in coal mines as a guest-worker. When the years had gone by and more and more people got unemployed or were afraid to loose their jobs, time was getting worse. Anti-foreign paroles had been sprayed on the walls of their house. The news were loaded with supporter of National Socialists. A party called NSDAP was born to infect the mind of former friends and co-workers with a deadly venom.

Her family had been lucky though. They had stocked away enough money to move again. Destination Canada. In a small cafe in Toronto her grandmother found the love of her life and a couple of years later her mother was born. Not everything had been bad these days.

As a child she had loved to listen to her grandmothers' stories of their life back then. She had learned some German words, some Polish, too, and was eager to know more about her roots.

When Lauren grew older, her grandmother invited her to visit the country she grew up in. That was the first time she had been there. It was strange at first. The feeling to stand on the ground of a country with a history that had such an influence on the life's' of her family and millions of others, too.

Lauren wouldn't have thought that she could fall in love so easily though. It was beautiful. The landscape hadn't been like what she imagined it to be. She could remember when she was standing on a mountain, pithead stocks actually, looking down on the scenery that was laying in front of her. She could see dark green woods next to refineries, shaft towers which arose out of the black ground framed in the juicy light green color of grassland and in between all of that small red brick-stone rows. The former homes of overseers and colliery workers. Her grandmother had been giving her the grand tour. The house her grandmother had been living in, was now replaced by a supermarket.

The second time in Germany wasn't as epic as the first. Although Lauren felt the connection it wasn't the same at all. Her grandmother had died shortly after their vacation. Cancer in advanced stage. It had been only a matter of time. This second visit had been some kind of trying to get closer to her one last time on her first anniversary of death. She had always been a cheerful woman. Even after her grandpas death. The work in a coalmine got along with a heavy price sometimes. Silicosis had been diagnosed a few years after their migration to Canada and he never got the chance to hold his first and only child in his arms. He died a few days before her mother saw the light of day.

The city she now moved to was located in the area which was named after the river it was built around. She rented a small apartment in the suburb of the biggest city in the locality. At first it was a bit of a life task to learn the language and to manage the daily routine in a foreign country as though to conform to the usual practice. But she was a fast learner, always had been.

The first year went by fast. She got herself head over heels into her work. With the little time left she explored her neighborhood. Although the area was undulating she did a lot of cycling. Her mountain bike was always by her side. It was the best alternative to get from A to B because of the old train path that had been converted into public footpath and cycle route. It was called Route of industrial heritage.

She didn't have a lot of time to make new friends, but she wasn't trying to and had never felt more at ease until now. There were dozen of little theaters, cinemas and museums to enjoy oneself when she wasn't at work or doing some research at home.

Every morning she went to this small bakery down the street and had breakfast. She had never seen such a large assortment of bread. Grain bread in all kind of combinations, black bread, pumpernickel, white bread, sweet bread with and without raisin and bread bun with nearly the same amount of selection.

She loved her work in the small psychiatric hospital. After several meetings with the head of department of said hospital and closing negotiations with her former employer she stayed. Last week she acquired citizenship and was waiting for the reply. She wanted to take the exam to become the title consultant psychiatrist.

Ever since her residency she was amazed of what the mind was capable of. That a person who suffered through anything could shift into a state of catatonia or come up with psychotic experiences as like hallucinations. Anything in need to find a way to deal with their life crisis. There was so much uncharted ground to study. The work with psychiatric clients was more intense and she could also learn so much about herself and her way to handle life of her own.

Some days were less marvelous. People who didn't want to stay of one's own accord but couldn't leave without harming themselves or others around had to be kept on the secure unit. That was exactly where she was sent for now.

She reached the second floor and opened the French door to the hallway of the elevators. The scene she saw in front of her was hectic. Three men tried their best to deflate a screaming and struggling woman. She was pressed face first flat against the wall with one of the three men at her back, pinning her arms over her head. The other two tried to get a hold of her legs.

Lauren knew what it felt like to be in this situation. She had to attend a training of how to deescalate a tense situation like this one. Everybody should experience how it would feel like to be forced to do something they didn't want to or to loose the opportunity of making their own choices. It was one of the worst feelings she ever had to undergo. She had been fastened on a bed with both her hands and feet. One belt was secured around her shoulders, down her torso and clamped between her legs. It was horrible, not to be able to turn around on ones side or to even scratch ones nose.

The woman was crying hard. Thankfully it was Saturday and most of the patients of the station next to the secure unit were at home to test their stress level over the weekend, so there was almost no one in sight to gawk.

"No, please. Let me go. I'll do anything. Please. Just let me go. I won't hurt anyone. Please."

One of the male nurses got a grip on the woman's' ankle and carried her off of her feet. She was now lying on the hard flagged floor of the hallway. One male nurse at her feet, the other two were pushing her shoulders down, pinning her to the ground. She tried desperately to bite the strawberry blonde mans' hand on the right side of her head, without any luck.

"Get the hell off of me, you bastards. Ouch… You're hurting me here. _Go away_!"

"Bitte beruhigen Sie sich. Dr. Lewis wird gleich da sein. "

One man tried to sooth the brunette lying underneath his strong arms. A frown on her face she turned her head to look at the black haired man at her left shoulder.

"What?... I don't understand! I don't speak Nazi!"

She spat out in frustration. The man at her feet looked up. His grip tightened when the woman tried to kick. His dirty blond dreadlocks tied back into a ponytail.

"Nazi, nett."

The man at her left shoulder pushed her down even harder.

"Lass stecken, Sascha."

The male nurse at her feed tried to sooth the black haired man.

"Miss, my colleague said that Dr. Lewis will be here in no time and then you can talk to her. But please, lady, calm down. We don't want to fight you. You'll only hurt yourself."

His voice was gentle and his soft gaze relaxed the brunette.

The loud crack of a door closing brought the attention to the blonde woman coming around the corner of the elevator.

"Was ist hier los? Warum liegt diese Frau auf dem Boden?"

Her thick Canadian accent was the only thing she couldn't get rid of. A permanent reminder of where she truly came from and what she'd so desperately wanted to leave behind.

The black haired man looked up.

"Ah Lauren, endlich. Diese Dame spricht nur englisch und sie will nicht freiwillig mit uns…"

"What? I don't understand one word you're saying. You must learn to listen more carefully, buddy, because I already told you, but I will repeat it for you, Doofus: _I don't speak German._ Didn't your mother teach you manners like to not speak in a language the other party doesn't understand? Stop that. Is this the doctor?"

The brunette was struggling once again, breathing heavier with every punch and kick.

"Miss? My name is Dr. Lauren Lewis. I am the psychiatrist in charge. I'd like to talk to you but first I need you to calm down and I would prefer my office for that talk, if that is okay with you?"

Lauren was kneeling down to get on eye level. The brunette stopped fighting, staring back at her, eyes puffed, mascara smeared on her cheeks. Tears were rolling down her face.

"Dr. Lewis? Please tell those 800-pound gorillas to let me loose. I won't run, I swear."

Her voice cracked on some parts and her lips trembled. Lauren exchanged glances with the three men.

"If they did, would you come with me into the secure unit to talk to me in my office without further fighting?"

The woman nodded eagerly. Lauren stood up gesturing for the nurses to release the former combatant. The woman was now sitting on the same spot, rubbing her wrists. She looked up at a hand that was stretched out for her to take. She hesitantly took the offer and seemed surprised of the firm grip and the strong pull to help her stand up. Back in the vertical line still holding hands Lauren smiled slightly at the woman in front of her. She was almost her height and her physical appearance left the blonde doctor to assume the brunette had to work out. That would explain the hassle the three men had to keep her in place. Her clothes were somewhat out of place because of the wrestling before. She wore black leather pants and boots, her charcoal V-neck shirt uncovered her right shoulder. Her long brown hair was a bit tousled but hung loosely around her shoulders, small curls at the end. A silver pendant dangled down on a necklace up to her cleavage.

"So, I told you my name, would you tell me yours as well?"

Shaking the other woman's' hand carefully with a hint of mistrust in her eyes, the brunette took a deep breath.

"Dennis. My name is Bo Dennis."

* * *

 _Song: Die Gedanken sind frei  
Topic: Craving for Liberty and Independence in times of political oppression  
Traditional German Folk-song ~1842  
Hoffmann von Fallersleben and Ernst Richter_

 **If you like to hear a version of that song, you can find it on youtube.  
Use catchwords : Gedanken sind frei and GMX  
Although it's a commercial of GMX (German Email), but I love it! **

**I also think this song fits perfectly with the subject of a psychiatric ward.**

 **Feel free to leave a note.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, fast huh? Chapter 2 is up.**

 **Thank you for the reviews and for following my little story.  
I hope you like it so far and that I won't suck :D**

 **I wanted to let you know, that this is not about the world of fae.  
Guess I have forgotten to give you that tiny piece of information.**  
 **Anyways, have fun.  
Reviews are very much appreciated**.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

 _Ich denke was ich will und was mich beglücket  
(I think what I want, and what delights me,)_

 _doch alles in der Still', und wie es sich schicket.  
(still always reticent, and as it is suitable.)_

 _Mein Wunsch und Begehren kann niemand verwehren,  
(My wish and desire, no one can deny me)_

 _es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei!  
(and so it will always be: Thoughts are free!)_

* * *

 **(Bo)**

The doctors' hand was welcoming and gentle. Soft slender Fingers were brushing against her skin. The burning in her body abated and the aching throb on either side of her forehead was slowly fading away.

She watched as the man who had taken a hold on her ankles earlier was now moving to a door, key in hand. The letters on the glass read "Station 12". That had to be the secure unit the blonde was talking about only seconds ago. Behind the glass a pair of sapphire blue eyes were staring back at Bo. Her fingertips lightly touching the letters at the front. Dark hair framed her face. Bo felt embarrassment crawling up and a blush covering her cheekbones.  
The younger woman in front of her must have seen the act of wrestling. She could see the girls lips were moving but only forming voiceless words.

All of her former combative spirit was gone. She realized that there was no way out of this misery when she saw gorilla one and two standing behind the doctor, blocking the only way to the stairs. She was tired. The last couple of months were exhausting. The only thing she wanted to do was to wake up out of this nightmare. How did she even get there?

Bo managed to take a few steps in the direction to the entrance of the secure unit, where the nurse was already waiting with a small but reassuring smile on his lips. Suddenly the pain she thought had vanished, was coming back in full force, pounding in her head. The scenery all around her was shrouded in mist. It was hard to breath. Her body longed for some needed oxygen but seemingly her bronchial tubes couldn't get the work done to exchange the mixture of gas in her lungs.

She lost ground and was about to fall when she felt someone rushing to her left side and a firm grip around her waist that was holding her in place. Dizziness surrounded the brunettes' head and she needed some time to refocus. She turned slightly to get to know whose body was pressing against her own. Looking up she met the concerned hazel brown eyes of Dr. Lewis. For some reason the brunette felt an unfamiliar inner peace, a wave of calmness pulsating off of the warm and supportive body next to her.

"Let me help you, okay?"

Bo nodded.

They walked through the now open door of the unit in perfect sync, passing the dark haired woman who was staring at the brunette all along with a blank expression on her face. If Bo hadn't been too preoccupied to move from one foot to the other to keep walking, she probably would have noticed the change in the raven haired body language. She was stopped short when she felt an iron clap grip on her right forearm.  
Terrified Bo gasped gazing into deep blue orbs which were fixed on chocolate brown ones. The young girl mumbled undefined words in a foreign language. The small hand held firmly onto the brunettes arm. Her skin was cold and slightly wet. It felt like ice melting on the brunettes overheated dermis.

"Frau Malikov, bitte lassen Sie die Dame los. Kommen Sie wir gehen in Ihr Zimmer."

The gingerly voice of the dirty haired man cut through the tense atmosphere. He peeled the womans' hand off of Bos' forearm and accompanied her down the hallway of the unit to the second door on the left and disappeared into what must have been a patients' room. All the way the young woman wouldn't stop the rush of words coming from her mouth.

A soft clicking sound snapped Bo out of her trance like state. The gorillas were back and closed the door after they entered behind her and the doctor.

That was it. She was locked up in a cage with foreign people behind glass like an animal in the zoo. Some kind of living hell in a system she didn't know much about nor would she get the opportunity to get the information she needed to find a way out. Her tormentor crawling along the floor right behind her back, speaking words in a language cryptic to her ears. She didn't understand.

She had always been prepared. She had to be unless she wanted to be caught. She wouldn't even go to the groceries store without further information about emergency exits or hiding spaces. There were countless blueprints of buildings she had seen in which she had to set foot in and every single one was burnt into her mind's eye.

She was a light traveler. Her bag was only packed up with as much as was needed to survive. Bo cursed herself for loosing that bag in her attempt to run away from those dog catchers who brought her here.

"This was Miss Malikov. She is actually quite nice, if you get to know her. I will introduce the two of you later on. But at first, Miss Dennis, please…"

The blonde gestured down the hall to a door across the one the dark haired girl went through. Unsteady legs were let by the doctor, who was still pressed against her upper body. Keys in her free hand Dr. Lewis opened the door and helped Bo to get in. Then the blonde turned to the two closets of a man.

"Danke, ich denke den Rest schaffe ich alleine."

With a simple nod the men disappeared. Bo was standing in a small room, more likely some kind of broom closet than an office she thought. There was hardly enough space for the desk, one two-seater sofa, a coffee table and an armchair. At the other side of the room there was a cot at the wall covered in cellulose. The feeling to be trapped was getting stronger by the side of the tiny office.

The air was heavy with the scent of dust, printed paper and disinfection. The sound of the PCs' ventilation filled the otherwise quiet room.

With her head down Bo was unconsciously rubbing her right forearm. In her mind replaying the sapphire blue eyes staring back at her, wondering what the woman intended to tell her. Dr. Lewis walked up to the desk chair motioning at the sitting area.

"You want to take a seat?"

Startled, Bo was looking at the blonde, trying to conceive the meaning of the words she just apprehended. After a short amount of time Bo decided to sit upon the two-seater. Her head fell back down looking at her hands. Some dark curls of brown hair covering her face like a shield. A bitter taste on her tongue almost forced her to vomit. It was hard to swallow, because of the soreness of her throat after all the screaming and shouting.

Forcing herself to look up, she managed to observe the woman sitting across of her roaming her eyes up and down her frame. The blonde wore a pair of blue jeans and a white button up blouse. The sleeves pulled up, revealing her buffed forearms. A nameplate tucked at the left side of her chest. 'Dr. Lauren Lewis' were the only words she could decipher and something that described her as a shrink.

"What are you going to do with me now?"

Bos' whispered under her breath, afraid of the answer there is yet to come. Leaning forward, Dr. Lewis rested her forearms on her legs, golden hair waving loosely in the air in the process trying to hold the brunettes gaze.

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

A silent tear escaped Bos' eye and was rolling all the way down to her chin. Resignation settled down all over her body and mind. Lauren grabbed the handkerchief box, which was lying on the table and offered it for Bo to take. She refused, wiping her face Bo looked back down. A sudden movement made her cringe but the fear to look up was paralyzing. She tried to prepare herself of what was to come, listening carefully and flexing every muscle that could still obey orders.

By the sound of water running, Bo conquered her fears and saw the doctor across the room pouring some soda in two glasses. Sitting back down on the desk chair, she held out one of the glasses with sprinkling water. Bo hesitated to take the offer.

"It's save to take a sip. I guessed you could need some water. Your throat has to burn like fire. I heard your screaming all the way downstairs."

Before her fingers could touch the offered drink she flinched. Their eyes locked a few seconds. It must had been one hell of a scene the blonde had been looking at when she had arrived. Bo had never thought she would end up like this. Struggling, fighting, screaming. What a first impression that must have been? Her pulse rate sped up. She felt pathetic.

"It's ok though. I would have screamed, too, if I was in your position. Frank, Sascha and Dennis do have that effect on people sometimes."

Reaching out once more Bo accepted the liquid and brought the cold rim to her lips. What was there left to loose anyways? The soda tickled on her tongue in the most delicate way. Savoring the refreshing wetness a little longer she swallowed hard. A cough escaped. Her throat did burn like hell. With closed eyes she emptied the glass in a few gulps.

A knock on the door was breaking the comforting moment and her eyes snapped back open. A key turned in the lock and the door opened. The nurse with the dreadlocks hair style walked in a small tablet in his hands.

Bo froze immediately when she saw its content.

"Danke Frank."

Frank shook his head once.

"Kein Problem."

With that he left, closing the door quietly.

With eyes wide opened and her jaw clenched Bo was staring at the tablet in front of her. Her free hand clenched, knuckles running white with the other tightly wrapped around the glass. Her heart rate increased in unknown height again and she was breathing short through her nostrils.

The Doctor was turning back around, when she saw the brunettes reaction she was about to reach out.

"Please, don't drug me."

Sheer horror was shown all over the brunettes face. Her gaze was fixed on the sharp needles on the table glistening in the neon lights of the ceiling lamp. It was hard to swallow down the lump in her throat. She remembered the first time she was forced to use a syringe with a mixture of unknown liquid that would vault her into nirvana unsure whether she found her way back to the real world.

"Why would I do something like that?"

Bo toiled her gaze off of the syringes and again met the cognac colored eyes of the blonde. Her body was tense and shaking slightly.

"Because that is what you do, right? Poison the psychos and then fry their brain with electricity until they don't know their names anymore."

Her hand fumbled at the rim of the glass in her hand. Yet again there were tears in her eyes and a sob found its way out of the Sahara her mouth had turned into again. She felt her stomach contracting several times and hoped that she wouldn't throw up in front of Dr. Lewis.

"Okay, Miss Dennis, I'm going to tell you what the usual procedure contains. I know, when people think of psychiatric wards and psychiatric patients they have pictures on their mind because of movies like 'One Flew over The Cuckoo's Nest'. But what you see there on the small tablet is a set of instruments to take of a blood sample.

There is no need for any kind of medication unless _you_ feel the need of something to soothe your nerves. I also have to examine you. Test your reflexes, have a look if there are any physical afflictions and check your vitals. After that I need to ask you some questions and it is your choice whether to answer to or not. What do you think? Are you okay with that?"

Glassy eyes were searching the doctors' face, reassessing the intentions behind the honesty of her expression. There were fewer situations Bo could trust the words she had heard in the last couple of months. Words which tried to talk her into things she didn't want to do or assured her to let all her dreams fade away, because it would have been the only way for everything to turn out right. All of that leading to finding herself living a life she never had imagined, yet alone thought it could possibly have been called life. She pondered her words carefully, considering ways and means to protect the little that was left of Bo Dennis. That day when all the hell broke loose she swore to herself that she never let them brake her.

"I know it is hard to bank on my words because of the situation you find yourself in right now. But I want you to know, that I have no intention to hurt you. Honestly, I am here to supply support."

Bo wished she could believe the things the woman with the soothing aura said. Since back in the hallway in the very moment of uncertainty and vulnerability the blonde had been giving her some kind of shelter, never breaking her words. It would have been easy to let the doctor catch her in the security she offered. But nothing came for free. That she had to learn in the most painful of ways.

Placing the glass on the table she took a hold on the edge of the sofa.

"Do I have a choice?"

Dr. Lewis looked at her intently. Bo could make out the wheels turning in the womans' head maybe thinking about the best way to get Bo to do what she wanted her to do, leaning back in her desk chair. Bo was sure, it wouldn't take long before those three musclemen would return to push her down onto the examine cot. A sudden wave of fear was rushing through her chest. No, please, not again. How much more adrenaline was her body able to produce?

"Yes, you do."

Surprised and unsure of the meaning behind the answer she received the brunette shifted in the two-seater.

"What?"

Confusion all over her face and a frown forming her expression Bo opened her mouth to take a breath. The air seemed thicker and there was a heat rising in her body.

"I said, yes you do. Listen, I need you to trust me and I am aware of the irony of what I'm striving for, but that is the only way this is going to work."

The doctor painted circles in the air between the two of them.

"You don't want me to examine you, okay, maybe some other time then?"

Another few sips of water and Dr. Lewis placed the now empty glass next to Bos' on the coffee table.

"So? What do you think? You want me to ask a few questions, or may I start with the check-up?"

"You're serious? I can opt between talking and the check-up thing?"

Dr. Lewis simply nodded. Leaning back Bo let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Her cramped limbs thanked her for the change of position. A choice. That was a new one. Feeling her body relax into the soft backrest, Bo studied the doctor.

"Where are your scrubs?"

"My scrubs?"

Bo crossed her legs, getting bolder.

"Yeah, you're saying, you're a doctor. So why do you look like the woman next door?"

The blonde smiled slightly.

"So, if I was wearing scrubs and a white coat, would it have been easier for you to believe that I was a doctor?"

Bo shrugged. Standing up the blonde moved to the door, opened it and walked out of the room. Bo looked stunned and from where she was sitting, she had a good view to the nurses' office where the doctor was heading to. Could this day get any more absurd? A few minutes later the blonde entered the small room again a white coat in hands. She donned it in one swift flick of the wrist and sat back down.

"I'm sorry, there were no scrubs but at least I found my white coat. I was actually wondering where I had left it the other day. So, hi, my name is _Doctor_ Lauren Lewis and I am the psychiatrist in charge."

Extending her hand to the brunette she smiled sincerely. Bo had to let out laughter, its cause she wasn't quite sure about . Maybe because of the unintentional humor of the situation, or because she felt fewer and fewer tensed up in the womans' presence. She released the grip on the sofa and went through her hair, soothing the thick strands. Then she reached out and took the blondes hand in hers shaking it slightly. After releasing she felt tired in a sudden, looking through heavy eyelids she had to smother a yawn. It seemed as if all the power and adrenaline was gone in a blink of an eye.

"Tired?"

"Yes, sorry, kind of had a rough day."

She managed a small smile at the woman on the desk chair.

"I guess, now that I can _see_ that you _are_ a doctor, it would be okay if you took those blood samples."

"You sure? I haven't had the chance to show off my scrubs yet."

Bo smiled a warm smile and nodded. The blonde prepared herself and gestured the brunette to stretch out her right arm. The cold spray of the disinfection made her shiver. With glove covered hands the doctor took the butterfly in her right hand.

"Okay, you might feel a little prick."

Bo closed her eyes, concentration on the gloved fingers softly holding her arm in place. The needle pierced through her epidermis in the crook of her arm. She took a harsh breath when the pinprick cut through her flesh.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

The blood warmed the cold metal up and Bo could feel it course into the tubule. She opened her eyes and watched the blonde concentrating on the work at hand. Her hazel eyes narrowed into slits. The golden locks hanging loosely at either side of her face. Bo could perceive the nuances of the doctors' scent, a mixture of honey, anise and orange. When their eyes met Bo felt a strange wave of warmth spread through her chest. The intense gaze wrapped her up and smashed every coherent sentence in her head against invisible walls.

The doctor broke eye contact and cleared her throat. She dragged the needle out and pressed a swab at the puncture.

"Please keep the pressure for another minute."

* * *

 **Song: Second verse of 'Die Gedanken sind frei'**


	3. Chapter 3

**It's a rather small update.**

 **Hope you like it. Thanks EmCelle ;)**

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

 _Und sperrt man mich ein im finsteren Kerker,_  
 _(And if I am thrown into the darkest dungeon,)_

 _das alles sind rein vergebliche Werke._  
 _(all these are futile works,)_

 _Denn meine Gedanken zerreißen die Schranken_  
 _(because my thoughts tear all gates)_

 _und Mauern entzwei: Die Gedanken sind frei!_  
 _(and walls apart: Thoughts are free!)_

* * *

 **(Lauren)**

Lauren was gathering the blood samples, feeling the brunette's gaze on her skin. Trying to shake off the growing discomfort Lauren wasn't used to she cleared her throat, rolling he desk chair back slightly away from Bo who was pressing the swab tightly. She stood up and went over to her desk to place the tablet down. She needed some space between her and that woman she should take care of her as a doctor.

It had been a long time ago a patient had that effect on her. To tell the truth, there hadn't been anyone that made her uncomfortable in such a comfortable way. A slow burn crawling up her guts leaving her well organized self completely flustered and chaotic. Always the professional she kept her face straight, concealing the approaching storm inside of her.

The woman on the sofa in her office was surrounded by a shroud of mystery. A Puzzle needed to be solved. Lauren felt this familiar sensation in her belly. A curiosity to get to the bottom of this riddle the brunette had lain out in front of her.

 _"I've waited long enough now. Let me go to support my wife!"_

 _"I do understand. Please wait a second. I'll see what I can do, ok?"_

Muffled noises penetrated the the silence of the examination room. Lauren looked at the door of her office. She heard Franks voice and a foreign one she couldn't recognize.

Looking back at the brunette who was still eagerly holding the swab in place, Lauren opened the door.

"Excuse me, Frank what's the matter out there?"

"Lauren, this man is Mr. Dyson Thornwood. He said he is Ms. Dennis's husband and he wants to join you to get some information too."

Lauren turned back to the brunette. She saw something flicker in her patient's eyes that she would have called freight and worry, but it was gone as fast as it showed up. The brunette sat straight and with a blank expression, waiting.

"Ah, yes. Uh- Miss Dennis, do you want your-uh- husband to join our conversation, or...?"

"What's with the question of course she wants me there. I'm her husband. Get out of my way, woman."

He brushed past Lauren pushing her aside in the process while entering the room. The doctor stumbled a few steps backwards. Frank took a hold on her arm, making sure she caught her balance. Lauren was used to situations like this. Intake interviews at the secure unit sometimes contained sorrowful and overly protective relatives.

"Ysabeau there you are."

There was something in his voice that made Lauren feel her blood freeze in her veins. It wasn't loving or caring, rather threatening and spoken through greeted teeth. The brunettes reaction reinforced her doubts. The intruder took a hold on her shoulders and pulled her up, pressing her body against his own roughly. Lauren saw his lips formulating words obviously only addressed to his wife. Bo's face went pale and her previously relaxed features vanished the moment this man showed up. Her expression went blank all over again. The grip on the woman in his hands must have been painful judging from the white color of the man's knuckles and the also white marks his fingers were imprinting onto her skin.

"I was afraid something had happened to you, Darling. You can't just disappear like that. Now let's go home, okay?"

His voice harsh and a bit louder then necessary. Bo looked at Lauren with glassy brown eyes. The little courage that had been built up with huge effort now replaced with emptiness and resignation. This picture of a concerned husband seemed wrong. Something didn't match. The way he held and looked at her. As if she was his property, some kind of object he wanted to get back in his clutches.

Lauren made her way to the two of them. Frank sensed the doctor's mistrust and stepped forward far enough to fill out the doorway, arms crossed over his chest in an undaunted posture.

Frank was one of the male nurses Lauren was always glad to work with. He was a thoughtful and conscientious man. She could rely on him in every possible way. His physical dimension resembled of a smaller version of a double door closet, or more of a sideboard. He wasn't tall but had a husky muscular body build.

A pair of crystal clear, ice blue eyes held so much thirst of knowledge and an irresistible urge to probe the cause of anything which could not be solved yet. He usually wore some metal band shirt and black slacks with black sneakers. About two years ago he passed a postgraduate professional education and could call himself specialist of nursing in psychiatry.

To become a nurse, one had to pass a three year apprenticeship. After a period of two years on the job, one could specialize in various departments. That again would take two years of education while working at the same time. It was a lot of hard work but for Frank it was worth the effort.

He also had a great ability to empathize. He radiated a warm and gentle charm and his cheerfulness could light up the darkness of the night.

From the first moment Lauren met that miniature-brown-bear she felt this sudden connection. They knew what the other one was thinking without talking and over the years they coalesced into a well functioning team. Although Lauren was aware of the fact that Frank was a co-worker, she found some kind of a friend in him. They never met outside of work or talked about the delicate facts of their lifes to one another but knew as much as there was to know to feel comfortable in each other's presence.

Lauren stood close enough to take a closer look at the curly haired man who invited himself in.

Mr Thornwood's blue jeans was covered with dirt, so were his boots. The heavy black leather jacket left open to reveal a dark green colored shirt. The hem was tucked in his jeans only half way. A black tattoo not bigger than a two Euro coin* adorned the inside of his right wrist. There was an eagle printed with outstretched wings to either side and it was sitting on top of a circle with the symbol for infinity in it. His other wrist was covered with a broad black leather band.

"I'm sorry Mr. Thornwood, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Lauren Lewis and I'm the doctor in charge. I'm afraid, but you can't leave just like that. Your wife.."

"Is my concern, Doctor. Thank you, I'll handle her from here."

Turning his face to look at the blonde piercing blue eyes cut Lauren in mid- sentence,. There was a big bruise on his right cheekbone and on his bottom lip was a big bloody cut. She could point out several dried stains of the dark liquid on his shirt. Frank stood a bit closer to Lauren and planted himself behind her, his biceps muscle constricting.

"I'm afraid, but for what I've seen and heard earlier, Miss Dennis..."

"Thornwood!"

His grip tightened more around the brunette who appeared even smaller close beside the man hovering above her.

"Excuse me?"

"It's Mrs. Thornwood. Why did you use your unmarried name, Sweetheart?"

He turned his attention back to the brunette. There was nothing sweet in that term of endearment. The air was tense. Lauren felt protective towards the other woman frozen in her tracks. She had to be careful of her next steps. This husband was trouble, she could sense it with every pore of her body.

"Okay... Mrs. Thornwood has to stay at least a few days to keep her under surveillance. It is in her best interest. And the visiting hours are over, so I guess you should say your goodbyes and come back tomorrow after four p.m. Maybe you could bring some cloths with you and her toiletries, Mr. Thornwood."

Lauren stood up straight to her full height and reached out to position her hand on the man's forearm to get her point across. With his jaw clenched the dirty haired man closed his eyes for a second. His hands squeezed his wife one last time. Bo gasped, her face contorted with pain. He opened his eyes and crashed his lips on the brunette's in a rough and forced kiss. Then released her and stepped back looking at the doctor with a determined gaze.

"Tomorrow four o'clock it is. And I'll make sure to take my wife back home with me then."

He was about to walk away.

"What happened to your face, Mr. Thornwood. If I may ask?"

Laurens' voice made him stop. Without turning back he answered.

"You may not, _Doctor_. See you tomorrow."

With that he left the room. Frank followed behind, closing the door after him.

Lauren took a deep breath and turned to the brunette. She was staring into nowhere, still standing in the same position, shaking with a thin film of sweat glistening on her forehead. The doctor walked in front of Bo. Carefully trying to get her attention.

"Mrs. Thornwood?"

Bo wouldn't react. She was looking through the blonde bug-eyed, breathing with short and fast breaths. Her nostrils fluttered and hands clenched. Lauren slowly, so as not to startle the extremely anxious woman, reached for her cramped left hand. The blonde's fingers brushed slightly against cool, wet skin. She gently took Bo's fist in her hand and soothed her knuckles.

"Miss Dennis?"

Soft words were flying out of the blondes mouth into the hard silence bred by the angst-inducing meddler.

The low and solacing voice of the Doctor ran the blockade.

Something clicked in the brunettes head and she snapped out of her trance, focusing on concerned hazel orbs. Bo's eyes searched the doctors face and without warning she crashed herself against the woman wrapping her arms around her. Lauren was forced backwards and had to steady herself to not fall down. The brunette was holding the doctor in a tight embrace lying her head on the blondes shoulder. Lauren's arms hung in the air aside. After a few seconds she caught up and gently placed her hands on Bos' shoulder blades, running softly up and down her spine. She could feel the brunette's body shaking and Bo cried silent tears.

They stood like this for some time. The brunette's breath slowed down and her body stilled. Lauren felt her shifting and loosen the embrace. She tried to bring Bo's face in front of her to look her in the eye.

Bo's cheek was brushing against her own in the process. Her skin was hot and wet with tears. Her eyes puffed and red.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

Bo stepped out of the blonde's personal space, fragile-looking. Her gaze rushing down to the floor to cover her embarrassment. With one last squeeze of the brunettes hand Lauren released her.

"No, it's perfectly fine. You want to talk about what happened?"

Bo shook her head no.

"If it's okay, I really need to lay down for a while, please?"

Playing with the hem of her shirt, Bo forced herself to look back up.

"Yes, I guess we should take a break. Come on, I'll get you to your room. And maybe Frank could get you something to eat and some clothes to wear for the night."

"That would be great, thank you."

"Yes, uhm... I have to do some paperwork and there are several other patients I have to look after. I'm afraid, but those questions I talked about before... we were interrupted... I have to ask some of them later though."

Lauren could see the brunette fighting for some strength. Her gaze to the floor, she nodded quickly. What was her story? Lauren wanted to know so desperately why a woman like Bo Dennis was now standing in her office but her work with people in critical situations taught her to be patient and to adopt a wait and see attitude. The woman in front of her didn't seem to be just any random homeless person like the ones Lauren knew and had worked with. Also the part where this alleged husband came into painted an abstract woman didn't seem like someone who did drugs on a regular basis. But Lauren knew out of experience that some junkies were well aware how to hide that fact. Her gut, though, told her there was a difference here.

"Yeah, I thought you would say something like that and after my... performance... I think there are a few answers I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. It's kind of hospital policy and health insurance forcing me to bother you. But, to be honest, I do care about my patients and their well being, whether they consult me as their doctor or as in your case, they are stranded to stay."

The doctor stepped away and walked to the door.

"So, you're coming?"

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 *** Two Euro coin= 25,75 mm diameter**

 **Song: Third Verse of 'Die Gedanken sind frei'**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yes, I know. Sloooow. But it was hard to give birth to this baby for some unkown reasons.  
Now, here it is and I hope you like it.  
Thanks as always to EmCelle ;)  
**

 **Thank you for following and reviewing this story. It really means a lot to me. ;)**

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

 _Drum will ich auf immer den Sorgen entsagen  
So I will renounce my sorrows forever,_

 _und will mich auch nimmer mit Grillen mehr plagen.  
and never again will torture myself with whimsies._

 _Man kann ja im Herzen stets lachen und scherzen  
In one's heart, one can always laugh and joke_

 _und denken dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei!  
and think at the same time: Thoughts are free!_

* * *

 **(BO)**

Bo stepped out of the office right after Lauren who held the door open for her. The hallway of the unit was flooded in light. She had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment to adjust them to the sudden brightness that was thrust upon her. When she was able to open them again she could make out a photograph in a picture frame on the wall in front of her. A red shaft tower on close up arose from a bed of gravel in the blue clear sky. On closer look Bo could see the sun reflecting in the steel on the top of the tower. The coldness of steel and the warming sun created a beautiful contrast.

The floor of the unit was gray colored and the material seemed damp, wipe-able. The walls were painted in colors of warm earth tones, from light sand to deep mocha brown. She hadn't noticed anything of her surroundings when she first entered the unit.

Further down the hallway was a glass door opened wide for everyone to exit only about a hundred meters down the corridor. Bo must have shown confusion all over her face when she heard the familiar voice of the blonde next to her.

"Down there is the garden" Lauren said, breaking the silence, "the door is usually open from nine a.m. to nine p.m. I guess it will be closed by the time you get settled, but you could write it on your schedule for tomorrow, if you want to."

Lauren took the lead again and was now standing in front of the nurses station. Bo watched her enter and waited not knowing what to do with her feet. The feelings inside her chest were long forgotten. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt something like that. A mixture of insecurity and self-consciousness. Not a second went by and the head of the doctor popped out of the entrance followed by the rest of her body.

"Sorry, uhm, Miss Dennis. This way."

"Oh, yeah. I'm coming."

Bo fumbled at the pendant. She never took it off, not once. It was her security blanket of sorts. The only thing she could hold on when there was nothing else left. It soothed her but comfort wouldn't come this time.

While walking up to the nurses station throwing one last lingering glance down to the glass door. A man just happened to appear. He was middle aged and his outward appearance was like one of a hobo. His clothes were dirty and way too large. His trousers were held up with gauze bandage. The shirt he was wearing was buttoned up all wrong and his blond hair was tousled and sticky. His face could use some shaving and his eyes were fixed on the floor next to his feet.

Bo could see his lips were moving as if he was talking to somebody, but he was all alone. She saw the yellow marks of nicotine on his fingertips. At some point he was throwing is left arm in the air, shouting what must have been a curse judging from his body language. Slowly his arm was sliding back down in small waves. His shoes were left open and his steps were scuffled. He made his way to one of the doors in the back and disappeared into the room behind.

Bo didn't realize until it was too late that the doctor had stopped at the entrance talking to someone in the nurses station. Crashing into her back Lauren stumbled forward against the door frame with one hand up to steady the brunette who was now pressed up against her.

"Woah, careful there."

Frank, the one Lauren was talking to, came rushing towards the two women holding on to each other. The intoxicating scent of the golden haired woman filling her senses again and a flash of déjà vu resurfaced. Bo found herself pulled back up, her gaze focused on the hazel brown eyes staring back at her. She gathered her thoughts, searching for her voice to come up with an apology.

"Sorry, doctor. I-uh- I wasn't looking."

That was all she could blurt out in time.

Lauren straightened up again. Her face covered in a shade of red around the cheekbones a small smile turning on her lips.

"Yes, no problem. So, where was I? Yes, Frank, Miss Dennis needs some clothes to wear for the night. Maybe there is a shirt and some shorts in the repository? Oh, and is there anything left of supper? Some bread and lunch meat? Or are you a vegetarian?" She asked, turning back to Bo who was still staring at blonde in front of her.

"Huh?" She asked, trying to let the question sink in, " bread and cheese would be great thanks. And no I'm not- a vegetarian I mean. But I'm not fan of lunch meat ."

Nodding Lauren was concentrating on Frank again. He said some words Bo couldn't understand but the smile on his face and the still nodding blonde made her believe that it must have been something about what the doctor had asked before.

Suddenly all eyes where back on the brunette questioning her.

"Miss Dennis?" She asked when a few seconds had passed and Bo still hadn't answered her question.

"Hm? Sorry, what? I didn't get that."

"Frank asked if it was okay for you if I showed you around while he is going to get you said supper and some clothes?"

"Yeah-yeah sure. Great actually."

Frank smiled at her again one of those warm and genuine smiles which made the brunette comfortably calm. Lauren stretched out her hand to motion Bo to go into the nurses station. She walked through the entrance and took a look around.

There were two large windows on either side of the room with an unconfined sight into the patient room behind, covered by roll-up curtains. In the center there was a desk with a computer and several documents placed on. At the opposite of the entrance two windows offered a breathtaking view. Instead of a room there was the beautiful landscape of the small village with its large pastureland and a few houses next to a small church. If it wasn't for the place Bo was now stranded in, she would have thought about this as a perfect spot for a vacation. At said window she could make out a table with eight chairs. What seemed like an untouched meal was placed on top.

Next to the entrance there were some closets and cupboard units with a sink at one side. All painted in warm sand-colored with a dark brown counter top. The light was dimmed and not that glaring. She could see some disinfection bottles in steel frames on the wall.

Another step forward and Bo was standing in the middle of the office. She searched the room for nothing in particular. In the corner to her right lying atop of one of the counters, she saw a familiar item. A black leather bag. _Her_ black leather bag.

Bo turned back to Frank, who was still standing next to Dr. Lewis.

"Sorry, uhm, Frank it was, right?"

The nurse was about to walk out of the office. When he heard Bos voice he looked back at her, nodding.

"Yes, that would be me. Anything wrong?"

"Yeah, I mean, no I was just- this bag- it looks familiar."

Bo motioned to the item in the corner.

"Ah, ja klar. I mean, well, _yes_. The police officers who brought you here gave it to me after you were already in the doctors office. They had found it in the backseat of the car. So I thought it could wait until you were finished. I am sorry, but we have to take a look at its content anyway."

Bo stood still.

"Why? I mean, what would you be searching for?"

Frank walked back in the nurses station towards the bag. Bo followed after him.

"You see, Miss Dennis. This is a secure unit and we have some special additional requirements. We must ensure safety for everybody in this quarters, patients as well as the people who work with or visit said patients. So, I hope you'll understand that some of the people you will meet might need this security from the exterior because the life crisis in which they suffer this very moment makes it difficult for them to handle anything that tries to break through their daily schedule. Some of them are no longer in control of themselves. They maybe hear or see things, others don't and that can be hard to withstand and frightening as you might have guessed."

Bo thought about the words she'd just heard. She did understand. In the past few weeks she had first row to experience all of what Frank was talking about. The first time she had unknown substances in her blood, she'd expirienced pictures of grotesque faces screaming and shouting at her, flying around her head, trying to swallow her. A shiver ran through her body at the thought of it.

Still, it was her _life_ in this bag and she didn't like the idea that anyone would search through the only things that were of great value for her.

She had been on the run for nearly 72 hours by now. That was the longest she managed to crawl out of the fangs that tried to keep her in place. At night she had to find shelter and was on the move again with the first ray of sunshine. That one night she got a bed at a homeless sleeping spot administrated by social workers. She was thankful for a hot shower and a place to do her laundry.

She had to learn to defend herself at a young age. Defend her belongings, defend her food, sometimes even defend her body. She had to learn to run, to run _fast._ Run from the hell she escaped from, run from hungry eyes of men in dodgy areas with their big black cars.

She thanked whom ever for her athletic condition and great body shape. Her work had forced her to stay healthy and be prepared for every possibility. Even if that had been hiding for an unknown amount of time.

There was no time nor place for any type of relationship. That was the only life she had known. Trust no one except _the_ one. The brunette had always been a sucker for the extreme. Adrenalin was her lifeblood. Danger her constant companion. Until the price was set too high to pay for anymore.

Her thoughts were about to drift further away when she heard her name in a distant.

"Miss Dennis?"

Dr. Lewis made her way to the brunette.

"What about we get you settled first and you get something to eat and some rest. I'll be back in a few hours and when we talk again, you and I are going to look trough your belongings okay?"

Halfheartedly Bo agreed and followed the doctor into the patients room at the right side of the office.

They entered a dark room. The curtains were closed. Bo could make out two bed frames and matching closets. A person shifted in the bed near the door, where the light hit the darkness and to reveal a sleepy black haired woman. The one Bo had met earlier.

"Oh Frau Malikov... Uhm, Ich möchte Ihnen Frau Dennis vorstellen."

The young woman sat up. Bo took a step forward and extended her right hand for the girl to shake.

"Hey, I have no clue what the Doc said, but- Hi, I'm Bo."

The brunette tried to put on a warm smile, waiting. Instead of shaking hands, Miss Mailkov lay back down and pulled her blanket up, hiding underneath it. Bo stared at her hand.

"Okay, maybe later then."

The doctor switched the headlights on. Bo walked up to the second bed near the window and sat down. She looked up to catch the blonde staring at her. Blushing, Laurens gaze dropped.

"Okay, Lauren. Hier ist schon mal ein Shirt und eine Trainingshose."

Bo had to smile. Saved by Frank the man of the hour.

"Okay, uhm, so I guess you're in good hands for now and I need to go. Take your time and I'll see you later."

"Okay."

Still smiling she took hold on the shirt and pants Frank placed in front of her.

For now Bo felt secure enough to change and to rest. She felt weak. The past few weeks had kept her busy. Normally she had some kind of back-up. A place she could turn to when all hell broke loose. This time she was all alone. Betrayed by the people she had trusted with her life. People the closest to call family. A family she never had.

She remembered the time in foster care. Nothing to look back to. She was raised by the streets and learned all she needed to know to survive.

That one day about 20 years ago a man showed up on the doorstep of 'The Ash's Foster care'. She could remember his black, cigarette smoke scented coat and the cold grip of his hand when they were introduced. It had been Bo's twelfth birthday and the cake was still warm from the oven. She never had the chance to eat a slice.

That day she became the first female member of the 'Dark Eagle-Project'

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 **Song: Fourth Verse of 'Die Gedanken sind frei'**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, here it is, finally. The next chapter. Yes, I know it took me forever and a day to update, but with on and off and on and (you get it) plus some other bumps on the way I didn't get the chance to bring it up sooner.**

 **Thanks to all the support, keep it up. Reading your thoughts and opinions makes the whole writing-thing more enjoyable than you would have thought!**

 **Unfortunately the song I've been adding the last chapters, is running out of verses that fit in the plot.**

 **Thanks to EmCelle, best beta, honestly.**

 **Don't own any of the characters (btw), just playing with them.**

 **So without further comments on my part, let's get started.**

Chapter 5

 **(** _ **Lauren)**_

She was sitting at her desk in the on-call room, staring holes in the holes she had already stared into the air for the last couple of minutes. Her mind couldn't focus anymore. Thoughts were running through her brain. Stumbling and crashing into one another. Conglomerating in an ocean of astonishment. Coalescing into waves, bursting against the hard and solid surface of the knowledge she had crammed her brain with and that identified her very being since childhood.

Knowledge she could hold on to. That made her who she was. Strong and independent. Science was all she could ever rely on. Science would never lie. Science would never get tired of being asked for answers. Science was her safe haven. Science kept her hope up to find what she was looking for when she ventured to inquire just the right questions at the right time.

At a young age she had been eager to fill up her head with all the unnecessary stuff life brought with it. Things like, that there was only one manufacturer left who produced berets in France. Or, that the old Egyptians used to treat a hangover after binge drinking by wearing a bay wreath around ones neck.

While growing up her inexhaustible thirst for knowledge had almost been unbearable to satisfy. Book after book burnt its words into the gray mass of her brain. She wanted to, no, _needed_ to get all the information until her eyes refused to read anymore and her body ached for something different to allay her permanent appetite.

A growling sound snapped her out of that white room she had let her mind create. A hiatus she found herself in in times like these. Times in which the flood of well founded knowledge failed and couldn't come up with the gratification of solving the puzzles lying in front of her.

In these rare moments in her life, she had to build this space of emptiness, otherwise she would be drowning in a sea of unchained mysteries. Loosing herself in her own head until she could hardly breath anymore because of the weight laying on her chest. The weight of frustration and chagrin.

There it was again. That sound. Back in the here and now, Lauren managed to gather her thoughts.

Hunger.

Looking around, her eyes scanned the space on her desk. An empty bottle of coke light, a pot once filled up with coffee but now lacking of any content and an untouched Caesar Salad were laughing back at her. The clock on the wall was working silently. Forcing the clock-hand to move forward with every sixty seconds.

How long had she been sitting there like this?

Blinking several times, she focused more fully. Eight twenty five? Couldn't be.

Her shift was almost over and she had to be at the daily morning meeting at eight thirty. Five minutes left to splash some water onto her face, collect her stuff she needed to present the night-events and to rush the two floors up to get to the room where the meeting would take place.

At this moment she thanked the high level of caffeine still running through her veins, because she couldn't remember of getting any sleep in the last twenty four hours. Usually when on duty there would have been at least some hours to rest. But not tonight, although it had been quite after her last round.

No, her brain wouldn't stop working.

Standing in front of the heavy door separating her from the conference, she went through her hair several times and straightened up her clothes. With one last breath to settle down her racing heart after the small morning sprint. She put the keys in the lock to open the barrier and stepped in the room already filled up with nurses, social workers and doctors looking at her, waiting patiently.

"Schön, dass Sie und mit Ihrer Anwesenheit beehren, Frau Lewis."

Dammit. The head of the department had arrived early today. Sure he would break habits on that very Sunday. And off course her late appearance would have been noticed and commented by the gray-streaked man.

"Sorry I'm late. Entschuldigen Sie."

Every first Sunday in the month there would be an extra meeting. The usual spare team composition at weekends had been reorganized for that special occasion. No one wanted to be there right now and to be late meant more extra hours for some of her colleagues. This meeting was the beloved kid of the head of the department to inform his subordinates about the latest development in the world of psychiatry.

But maybe he also just loved to hear his own voice.

She made out Frank sitting in the far corner of the room at the wall. The chair next to him empty, as he tapped on the seat. With an apologetic smile Lauren sat down next to him. He looked as tired as Lauren felt.

"Rough night, huh?"

"Yeah, kind of. Thanks for..."

She motioned to the chair she was sitting on.

"Sure thing Doc. Thought you might need the security this morning more than on other days."

She nodded. Sometimes it was scary how well he knew the blonde. She never liked to be on the receiving end of attention. All eyes and ears fixed on her made her uneasy. Always making sure to sit with her back against the wall on the other side of a room. She needed to have overviews of the situation she was in, to have a grandstand look around the place.

Who entered and who left.

Who sat next to whom or what was going on outside the window. Even on second floor.

Her safety net. She needed the feeling of constant control.

She had often heard the sentence, 'You have to trust some people every now and then'. But honestly, every now and then, the one she trusted turned out to be either a liar or used her warmhearted nature for their own good. The last one she had let her guard down for was Nadia, who left the second her uncle had been buried six feet under.

She took a look around. Most of her co-workers seemed bored or tired. Her boss on the other hand was talking with excitement about some statistics he read about in one of the many science journals he subscribed.

Something about electroconvulsive therapy, short ECT, and the formidable results that were achieved in treating patients with severe Depression without side effects like most of the pharmacological therapies would provoke. Even pregnant women could be treated and it would not harm the unborn in the slightest.

"Bullshit!"

Lauren wasn't an advocate for this kind of treatment. She thought it was a rather Stone Age kind of therapy. Most of the patients she had to go along with and monitor while the electric current was running through their brain to reboot and free the blockaded synapses, lost a large part of their short-term memory or suffered of aching muscles after the procedure.

The basic notion, to provoke an epileptic fit, which would stimulate the release of neurotransmitter and neurohormones.

In theory a great thing to do, but the practice...

Older Patients did actually have a benefit here and there. The lack of memory in the late seventies or eighties had been already set in without any help of that ECT. So it wasn't as drastic as for an otherwise healthy thirty four year old patient.

And sometimes to forget could be a useful way to get over things.

That's what she tried with moving to another continent. Forget the bitter days and remember the sweet memories of happy times with her grandmother.

"Wie bitte?"

Shit. Did she said that out loud? It was meant to be only in her head. Damn that loose mouth and tired mind of hers. Wide eyed, she searched for the right thing to say to cheat the gallows. A male voice to her left filled the embarrassed silence.

"I told Doctor Lewis about my new high-score at that video game named Mortal Combat and..."

"Stop. Kann ich dann weiter machen?!"

"Ja, Doctor Schwelger."

The principal consultant went on about the random facts of the research study. Lauren looked at Frank who winked and smiled at her. God, his mind was still reacting and combining on a high level. Although he did work the night shift and nurses didn't get the luxury of napping. They had to stay awake, came what may.

She mouthed a thank you and tried to focus on her boss again.

Yet again her subconscious had other things in mind. She drifted back to the secure unit and that mysterious brunette with those deep, beautiful but arcane chocolate brown eyes.

It was about midnight when the blonde's key unlocked the front door of the now quiet unit. A man in his early fifties was walking up and down the large hallway. His name was Mr. Kapur.

He came from India and barely spoke let alone understood the German language. The provision of residency of his oldest child had come to an end in the last week and his son would get forced to return to India. Unfortunately he had never lived there his entire life, because right after he was born Mr. Kapur and his wife had moved to Germany with their first child.

Mr. Kapur's second child would turn eighteen in less than three months and by then he and his wife had to get back to India, too. Because his daughter was born in Germany, she was the only one who received the German citizenship and was able to stay as long as she wanted to. But alone, without her family.

The law didn't make sense sometimes.

Mr. Kapur couldn't find a way out of this predicament and tried to kill himself by swallowing a lot of different types of medicine. When his wife had found him, he had been laying on the floor almost choking his own vomit and barely verbally contactable.

"Good evening Mr. Kapur. Sleepless again?"

The older man looked up and into Lauren's sympathetic eyes. He seemed sad and lost in thoughts.

"Yes, Ma'am. Sleep just wouldn't come."

With that he kept on walking, fumbling with a cigarette in his left and a Zippo in his right hand, entering the smoking area to disappear behind a door with a small window incorporated in the middle of the upper half.

Lauren went on, heading into the nurses office. Sascha was watching a movie on his laptop while Frank was cleaning up some of the surfaces with disinfectant.

"Hey, Doc. You're still on your feet? Lot of work to do?"

Frank turned and his blue eyes settled on her hazel ones.

"Yeah. I just finished my last round. Is everything okay up here? Any occurrences?"

She sat down on one of the chairs opposite from Sascha, who was too focused on watching some zombie-calypse horror movie. The hushed sound of bones breaking and flesh bursting filled the office. Lauren couldn't understand why on earth would anyone even watch yet alone produce such a violence-glorifying flicker.

"No, nothing specific. Mr. Kapur wanders around like every night and Miss Malikov needed an extra pill to get her inner tumult in check. I think that new patient costs a big part of her energy. You know how she reacts to anything new. She'll need some time, I guess. Oh and talking about said patient, she's waiting for you."

Lauren felt a rush of excitement climbing up her tired body. Her eyes were locked on the door to the room of this thrilling story she needed to get a finger on.

"She's awake?"

"Sure. She told me, you said, you wanted to talk to her. So she was waiting. I like her, she seems to be a nice woman. But there is something... I can't find the right words to describe. It's this feeling I get when she looks at me. As if there was a more than meets the eye."

Lauren just nodded already up on her feet again and reaching for the doorknob.

"Yes, I do feel the same, Frank."

Before turning the knob she looked back at Frank.

"Oh and would you keep an eye on Sascha. Tell him, we could sit together and talk about his... adoration of seeing people die or come back as the spawn of the devil. Oh and when he zooms out on his shift like that he could get into trouble."

They shared a laugh and with that Lauren opened the door quietly.

The room was dark except of the moonlight coming in through the window slightly ajar. The shorter black haired woman was asleep and breathing deeply in and out. Lauren smiled at the relaxed state she found the younger woman in.

The day Miss Malikov was brought emphatically in to the clinic by one of her uncles and left with a flood of Russian words Lauren didn't understand but by the look on the tiny woman's face weren't pleasant or supportive at all, the blonde felt kind of protective of her. As unprofessional as it might seem, she cared for the little Russian and her well being more than she probably should.

The features and body language of the dark haired woman would only soften when she was in deep sleep. Over the weeks she managed to get closer to the woman in front of her and got her to talk and open up a bit more.

Her story was full of violence and pain and dominance and oppression. But there was a lot more she wasn't willing to share just yet. Maybe time would bring up those heavy topics.

Lauren's gaze flew along the lit up places the moonlight embraced to land onto the brunette sitting on the other bed looking out of the window with her chin on her bent right knee. Her long brown hair framed most of her upper body. She seemed far gone although she was resting only mere meters away.

The brunette's feet were left bare and the borrowed training-pants were rolled up half of her lower leg. The shirt she wore was oversize and transformed her muscular and combative form into a rather small and insecure one.

The blonde couldn't help but stare. The sight she caught a glimpse on was breathtaking. The skin of the woman's face seemed flawless.

The curve of her cheekbones.

The small and soft hair beneath her ears.

The tip of her nose and those lips.

Mother Nature must have worked hard to come up with this beauty.

When Lauren returned her journey back to the brunettes eyes, she found two intense dark orbs staring back at her. A shock wave went through her body and soul. Yet again she was caught staring.

Caught by herself and unfortunately by the brunette, her patient, too.

A small smile crossed the corner of Miss Dennis' lips.

"Hello, Doctor. I was waiting for your return."

 **So, the next chapter is in waiting position. Have to edit something here and there, but hopefully I can update tomorrow or latest on Friday. But a warning to all of those, who gets easily scared or triggered, it's getting dark and bumpy from now on.**


	6. Chapter 6

****Okay, so here it is. It is dark and no light reading (if that story ever was, it ends right now)****

 ** **Don't read if you're easily scared.****

 ** **Thanks EmCelle ;)****

 ** _Chapter 6_**

 **(BO)**

"I can't tell you that either."

Bo was sitting across the Doctor on that two-seater in the blonde's office. It was kind of chilly in the small room. Bo embraced her knees, pulling them more firmly against her chest. A pair of ' _Adiletten'_ , that's what Frank had called the blue beach slippers with three white stripes, were laying on the floor next to the sofa.

"Okay, then- what about family? Friends?"

The brunette dropped her gaze to her toenails painted in black nail polish that little by little chipped away here and there. She could hear the blonde exhale in mounting frustration. The last fifteen minutes Bo sat there averting every question the Doctor asked with the same answer.

"I can't..."

"... tell me, I guess. Okay. I have to admit you're not an easy one to interview, Miss Dennis."

Bo looked up at the blonde again, who was staring back at her with a frown.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

The Doctor got up and took a hold of a bottle of water, quietly asking the brunette if she wanted some, too. Bo nodded and waited for her to return and sitting back down, they both sipped on their glasses.

"Okay. Let's try something new. Maybe you do the talking and I'll sit here listening. Just tell me what you're comfortable with."

Bo wasn't used to people being that patient with her. She was more used to the aggressive way of getting the information one needed to know. Torture wasn't new to her and she was trained to withstand suffering.

One of her first lectures, when involuntarily joining the _'Dark-Eagle-Project'_ had been; how to keep one's mouth shut and maybe survive when being captured.

She had learned to build and climb into a room inside her head when the level of pain would grow into a point that normal people would have past out from already. Bo had been lucky or maybe she made her job better than others, because she had gotten in that situation only once. Even then she had found a way to distract her enemy enough to overpower them and in the end she could add another stroke on her tally marks of dead bodies and successful jobs.

This time, with the blonde in front of her, she wished she could tell the Doctor what she wanted to know. She wished she could be as honest as the blonde had been, but that wasn't an option.

The cognac brown eyes seemed to light up every time they met with her dark brown ones and Bo couldn't resist to getting lost in them. Let them bathe her in their sweet warmth and peace offering. A familiar feeling embraced her cool and empty heart. Holding it. Squeezing it softly every now and again. A feeling she had almost forgotten.

She had felt something like that once before. A mix of being welcomed and accepted for who you are not what you could do or what you had to offer.

It was a woman on the street who'd made her feel that. A homeless, smelly, most of the time really dirty, old woman living around the corner of ' _The Ash's foster care'_ next to a garbage can. Her worldly goods all packed in a shopping cart. Always be prepared, she had taught Bo.

They first met on a cold winter morning. Or maybe not met, more like Bo found her.

The young girl had been walking through the streets, like always, and saw a small pile of clothes dark with dirt and covered in white snow laying on the ground a few feet into a blind dark alley. The young brunette was about to continue her daily march, when that pile started to move and a sneezing sound tore through the quiet, freezing morning air.

Bo was curious. So she got closer. When her hand was about to touch the surface of that messy stack, it moved and revealed a pale, skinny, tired looking old woman. She was shivering and her lips were all shades of blue. The tip of her nose dark red almost black. A pair of dark brown eyes staring back at Bo with a hint of resignation in them. Then the woman's gaze dropped to the bread Bo held in her hand. She never liked breakfast- at least not eating it in the huge refectory of the foster care. It had been too easy to sneak out and Bo had made a habit out of it.

On that day, Bo helped that homeless woman with bread and warm blankets she stole and smuggled out of the foster care. They had shared countless stories and laughter. Bo would stay day in day out as long as she could before she had to head back into her room, when the night shift would control the foster kids beds.

One day, it must have been in the first week of the new year, Bo walked up to the spot the old woman had stayed the whole time. It seemed different. Something was wrong. Bo could feel it, sense it.

When she crossed the corner, she had found the pile of dirty clothes, huddled next to the wall. She reached for them, holding up a piece of fabric but then she stumbled backwards in shock. Those dark brown pair of eyes were staring back at her, lifeless. Just the cold and empty claws of death.

It was the closest to a friend she ever had and in the presence of this woman she felt those things she experienced now all over again.

It scared the shit out of her.

Shifting in her seat, touching the pendant on her necklace, Bo's thoughts were flying through memories long forgotten. But that pendant was a constant reminder of a few weeks of happiness. It had been a gift from that old woman the day before she died.

Bo let her feet touch the slipper on the floor again and slid to the edge of the sofa, leaning forward, resting her forearms on her upper legs, hands folded. The Doctor mimicked her position on the one-seater she had gotten comfortable in at the beginning of their meeting.

Bo sensed, she just piqued the interest of her interviewer sky high, and in a weird way she liked the eagerness she received.

"Okay, I can give you some random facts about me. My name is Bo Dennis. I was born on the thirty first of January, nineteen eighty six. I am Canadian. I can't tell you anything about my parents or other family members, because I am a foster child and never met anyone of my own blood. The man you met earlier is not my husband, actually he is a really dangerous man, who'll not rest 'til he's got a hold of me again.

So if I don't get outta here by tomorrow morning, I'll probably be dead or worse and I can't tell you any more, 'cause you're already in their line of sight for standing your ground and sending that dick away and I don't want you to get in any deeper."

Bo took a deep breath. That was not as bad as she'd thought it would be and came out so easily. As if she hadn't had just told that story for the first time ever.

The Doctor's eyes never left hers or even flinched once. She had this strong pull inside to let it all out. The only thing that stopped her, was the lack of oxygen and the necessity to breathe. The information that flooded out of her mouth was more than she wanted to let slip.

She couldn't risk getting this woman in any danger, because of her defective behavior. Bo needed all her strength and full attention to save her own ass. There was no space left to secure another human being out of the claws of that organization trying to catch her. Much less an untrained civilian.

Silence surrounded the two women staring at one another. Bo read the blonde's expression carefully. She couldn't fully decipher what was reflected in those former amazingly clear and inquisitive light brown orbs. While time went by and neither of them ventured a remark, Bo's thoughts drifted back to a time before the hiding and chasing.

Three months ago everything had been as usual.

She was on the flight from Tokyo back to Toronto after several weeks of undercover work at a drug dealer ring. Its outcome satisfied her taskmasters more than she had thought. Her payment: a short stop at Duesseldorf.

A quick job she had to get over with. A job her employers had called small. **A job of which she hadn't been thinking about dealing with having a colleague out of her own rows on the receiving end of that death call.** But she would do as requested. She wasn't in any position to ask questions or scrutinize her boss's choices.

A job was a job and afterwards she would be heading back home eventually.

Home.

An odd choice of word for someone who was constantly on the move. She didn't even have a place she slept in constantly. Her private quarter was a one chamber hotel room. The lack of furniture was made up for with the latest of electronic on the market. PCs, laptops, mobile phones, a massive flat screen TV, material she needed to convert earpieces or GPS signals and other stuff she used for the next job.

There had never been enough time to relax or settle down. Barely back in town, she was sent into the next hazardous assignment with just enough time to recollect the things she needed and to get briefed.

She wasn't one to use guns.

Never wanted to be dependent on having enough bullets left to defend or kill. She did know how to shoot, and she was actually quite good at it, but she specialized in everything that had a sharp blade. Knives, Swords, even nail-scissors. She was skilled in Aikido and Caporeia. Both combat sport techniques were aimed at defending oneself and surprising the opponent in battle. It required a lot of physical strength and body control.

Once started her brain focused on nothing else but the job at hand and she went on and on, until her target was either captured or dead. It was a trance like state she stayed in, zooming out every unnecessary stimuli.

She worked alone most of the time.

A one-woman-army.

A battle machine.

A death sentence .

The last assignment she ever had a partner on didn't go very well. Her partner got caught like some bloody rookie and Bo found herself saving that clumsy almost dead man but nonetheless finishing her bosses request in record time.

They had never ordered her to work with anybody else since then.

When her plane landed in Duesseldorf airport a black Audi TT was waiting for her. A tablet was placed on the usual spot under the steering-wheel. After entering her ID, scanning her left thumb and a voice check a silhouette of one of her bosses came into view.

Bo had never met any of them in person. She didn't know what they looked like or what their voices sounded like. Every time she got briefed there was that black silhouette and a computer voice telling her about the details.

This time hadn't been any different.

The man that had to disappear from the face of the earth was called Trick. Like a disease he remained undetected to the heads of the dark agency Bo was aligned to. He had built up his own machinery. Some kind of factory producing deadly weapons.

His last project was to be get sold to the Middle East. A nuclear warhead, small but effective enough to destroy an area of the size of Ukraine.

 _This massage will self destruct in three seconds_.

All of the information she needed to succeed with the assignment were already saved in the computer-like brain of hers. She had never once forgotten any detail. She knew the exact location of her target. The surroundings to get cover. The leak that cut out a way for her to get into the complex. The number of possible enemies.

But when she was about to complete the job, every thing went black.

"Okay, so you're saying that man is trying to kill you?"

Bo blinked once. Her mind returned back into that small room, sitting across a highly concentrated woman.

"Uhm, no, he is just one of their dogs fetching a stick. The man behind, he needs me to be out of his way."

The brunette could sense the change in the Doctor's body language. She was weighing up whether to believe what she had just heard or not, searching for the right words. To untrained eyes, one could miss the light shifting in the blondes position, but for Bo it was a matter of life or death and therefor a positive or negative outcome of an assignment.

"I am aware that this, coming out of the mouth of someone who had fought tooth and nail like some crazy Fury, might sound... quirky and surreal. But you have to believe me, I am not insane."

"I didn't say anything like that."

"But I can see it in your eyes, Doctor."

The woman in front of her smiled shyly by the intensity Bo stared at the blonde and dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap.

"Anything else you can tell me, Miss Dennis?"

Looking back up the blondes eyes softened immediately when they locked with Bo's again.

The brunette just shook her head, guilt raising up her guts. She'd loved to, but better she kept her story buried deep inside. She would be on the run sooner rather than later anyways.

"Okay. Uhm, I need to ask something though."

The Doctors voice yet again cut through Bo's drifting mind.

"Ask, but I cannot promise that you'll be satisfied with the answer."

That smile again. It melted something inside. Made her inner walls crumble. Bo had to shake her head. Stop right there Dennis.

"Do you use or have you been using drugs?"

Bo swallowed hard. Her throat yet again drier than the desert. Her heart started pounding stroboscope-like at the sheer thought of that topic. It made her feel dizzy and a fear she hadn't felt in a while returned to her. It felt like she was getting that very first injection all over again. Right this second.

"Uh... I..."

She was out of words. Her hands shook uncontrollably and she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Miss Dennis? You look pale. Can I do anything to help?"

Bo watched hesitant fingertips brushing against her right upper arm. The touch was unexpected but weird enough felt soothing and the brunette welcomed the closeness to the Doctor.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks. It's just...uh..."

As fast as the blonde had searched for Bo's arm, she let her again. Like some hot pan. Looking up, Bo could have sworn, she saw a faint blush on the woman's cheeks but it was gone too fast to be sure.

There was this silence again. But this time it was an awkward one.

"They drugged me."

Bo spit out. Her features turned hard and her brown eyes went dark. She was staring to the ground at her feet. Trying to swallow the rising anger. Her hands formed into tight fists.

"They drugged me. At first it was just a sedative to help me to calm down. So that I couldn't fight them."

Bo was breathing in heavily. The scent of that rotten cell she woke up in crawling its way into her nostrils. The taste of steel in her mouth of her own blood wouldn't leave her. Ever-present for the time she had been captured.

The Doctor's stayed quiet. Listening carefully to the words Bo spoke.

"I don't know how long I was locked up in that dark hole they threw me in. It felt like years. I couldn't see anything. The only sound was my coughing and breathing and groaning in pain."

Bo looked up, staring straight ahead. She wasn't focusing at all. In her mind she was back in that cell. Alone, cold and starving.

"They beat me. Hard."

Bo reached for the hem of her shirt. She held it up high enough for the blonde to see the purple bruises across her ribcage.

A gasp filled the pausing silence.

She had known what would come next. Sitting in that cell, waiting. They tried to break her. Make her weak. She prepared herself for their torture. She was strong. Stronger than they thought.

"I know how to get through suffering. It's some kind of routine in my line of work. But I wasn't prepared for that kind of treatment. When they came to get me, I tried to fight. The first and second guard was laying at my feet in seconds. They knew about my skills. And in the first minutes or hours, I honestly can't tell, the third guard had tied me up. They were faster and stronger than me.

I was shoved into a glass coffin in an abandoned room colored in white, flooded in light. I was afraid, but I wouldn't let them know. The coffin had some holes at the sides of my head and on the top. There was nobody around. I was all alone. My eyes burnt because of the extreme brightness after being in the dark for so long. I had to shut them."

The brunette closed her eyes. Replaying the scene all over again. She could feel the cold glass against her skin.

"Then a throaty, deformed voice called out my name and the room went dark. He asked questions I knew would come, but I stayed quiet. The voice reiterated the same questions over and over again. But I refused to answer. The room went silent again and the light switched back on. I don't know how many times the light went on and off or how often the voice asked me the same bullshit questions, over and over again.

At some point I heard a cracking sound. When I forced my eyes to open and took a look around I could make out a lattice on the wall to my left, which had opened some slots. Then I heard another sound, that I couldn't identify. Then I saw it before I smelled it. Green gas."

The brunettes palms felt sticky. Sweat formed on her forehead. She was in stress. But she couldn't stop her brain from re-creating the moments and her mouth from forming words.

"At first I thought, well,...that that was it. I was going to die. At least I was already in a coffin."

She let out a bitter laugh.

"Oh god. I didn't know by then, that at some point through all this, I wished I was dead."

She fumbled with the hem of her shirt.

"The room went dark again and I was laying there, inhaling that cold, musty, gas filled air in absolute silence. I swear, from the way my heart was pounding, I didn't think it could get any worse. But I was wrong."

The Doctor shifted to sit next to the brunette. But she didn't notice anything that happened around her. Her eyes went glassy and a single tear escaped. Slowly sliding down her left cheek only to stop at her jaw, waiting to drop down.

"The light switched on again. But this time its wasn't bright. Not at all. It was like candle light. I could smell the wax. I saw the flames reflecting on the ceiling. Then there was movement in the right corner to my feet. A person. I wasn't alone anymore.

It was a man, coming closer. He looked familiar. I knew him. But I couldn't place him. He stretched out his hand and touch the glass to my feet. When he looked me in the eyes his lips were moving. He was speaking to me but I couldn't understand a word. I tried to talk to him. But he wouldn't stop speaking his silent words. Then he went pale and a big gash formed on his forehead. Blood was splashing down his face like a waterfall.

His eyes grew wider. He moved closer and leaned next to my ear. He whispered and now I heard him saying: you, you killed me. And then it hit me. He was right. I did kill him. He was my first job. My ultimate test drive. The first person I was assigned to murder. He died in his house, on his couch, in front of his TV, a single candle on his coffee table. Stuck on a birthday cake.

When I turned to face him, his face transformed into a grimace. The skin wizened and went more and more gray until his eyes dried out and he slid to the floor.

The room went dark again. I was breathing so hard my lungs should have burst, but they didn't although I wished they would have. I heard the gas filling up the room again.

The next time the room was lit up again I could hear an owl and smell wet wood and moss. I thought I'd see the moon, but I knew that couldn't be possible. I was still in this room, wedged in this glass coffin.

Then I saw her crawling along the floor to my right. Her head was hanging down low and her blonde hair covered her face. I heard a squelching sound with every step she shuffled forward. She stopped a few meters in front of the coffin. Her head came up slowly revealing her blood smeared face. The white color of her eyes were deep red and when she raised her left arm, her forearm tangled in front of her, clearly broken.

Her whole body seemed broken and several cuts studded her skin with gaping wounds. There was so much blood all over her, on the floor...everywhere. On her throat I saw... a thin line and I knew she must have be strangulated. You killed me. She whispered repeatedly. Until she screamed brutish, jumped to her feet and ran to the coffin. I had to close my eyes. I was so scared. I didn't know what was going on."

Bo didn't realize that she was crying freely now. Her whole body was trembling and breathing had become a hard thing to do. She found herself back in the small office her body pressed firmly against the Doctor who held her in a tight embrace. Sobbing heavily she clenched her fists into the soft fabric of the blondes blouse on her back, leaning in a bit more.

The smell of oranges and anise filled her senses and she started to relax. It took all of her strength to withdraw herself from this secure and soothing place. When she looked into the whiskey brown orbs of the blonde, caring and understanding, Bo's eyes grew wide when realization hit in.

"Oh my god. What have I done? I wasn't about to tell you any of this. You should not know any of this."

She jumped to her feet, walking up and down the small space next to the cot. Hands in her hair, shaking her head.

"It's okay."

Bo stopped in her tracks.

"No it's not. It's not because it's dangerous for you to get involved. They know who you are now. And they might come after you if there's any sign that you helping me."

The Doctor came up in front of Bo.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Bo shook her head.

"It's not me I'm worried about, Doctor Lewis. Sooner or later they'll catch me. I know that and I'll be prepared by then. But you..."

"Don't worry about me. I-"

Bo stopped the blonde by placing her hand on her right shoulder.

"You don't know what they are capable of. They have connections. They'll find their way to destroy you. I should stop talking."

Bo went back to the sofa and slipped in her _'Adiletten'_. Standing now in the middle of the room unsure of what to do next, she was waiting. The Doctor stepped up next to her yet again.

"This gas, It must have been some kind of high dose of hallucinogen."

Bo nodded.

"Yeah, after what felt like hours of torture I figured that out, too. My head hurt like it would explode in seconds and my stomach twisted hard enough I don't know when I stopped vomiting my own gastric juice... Can I go now. I think I need some sleep."

The brunette was about to walk up to the door.

"How did you get out of there? How did you escape?"

She stopped her movement, left hand on the doorknob.

"It is better, if you don't know, Doctor."

When Bo turned the knob, the blonde rushed next to her holding the door closed. Surprised and an unasked question in her eyes, Bo faced the Doctor.

Those feelings forming in the brunette's gut leaving her confused and tired. How could this woman have such a hold on her that fast? It hadn't happened ever. She'd never let herself feel. Let alone feel things like that. Like care or affection or amiability. She knew about that respect and honesty-thing. She had learned to feel that for her instructors and the heads of the agency. But she wasn't sure about those emotions anymore.

Someone must have betrayed her on that last job, when it all ended up with her on the run. There must have been a mole on the inside and she was determined to find out who was involved. And she will kill them. Slow and painful.

"Will you still be here tomorrow? My shift ends at nine a.m. But I'll be coming back in the afternoon for some paperwork. I'd like to talk to you some more. Maybe I can be of help."

Bo was searching for the right words to turn her down.

"Doctor Lewis, I..."

"No. Please, I know that you're safe in here. At least for the next twenty four hours. I can arrange, that you won't get any visitors. He cannot get into this unit unless my team and I let him in. You have to get some sleep. Other than that, three psychiatric nurses managed to tie you down, what chances do you really have against those men?"

Shit. Bo knew she was right. The brunette was in no condition to keep on running. She needed to rest and some more to eat. Maybe twenty four hours wouldn't hurt?

 **So what do you think? Please tell me. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**The next chapter. This one kind of fills in the blank between what had happened and what is yet to come.  
I hope you'll like it anyways. So here we go  
I don't own Lost Girl or they characters!**

 **(My beta rocks btw)**

* * *

Chapter 7

 **(Lauren)**

The morning sun lit the path in front of her. Bushes and trees were growing to the left and some branches twined far across the walkway. The river, mirroring the blue sky, silently floating, framed the track to the right. Some great crested grebe were diving in the water to find the smaller fish underneath the surface.

White smoke escaped out of the two red brick smokestacks of a refinery on the other side of the river. The sun was shining bright and it gave a welcoming warmth. It was a lazy morning. No passersby had passed her way since she walked out of the glass doors of her second home.

It was almost been ten o'clock when Lauren said her goodbyes and left the clinic. Finally on her way back home, her body felt heavy and her thoughts were flying around in her head settling on one topic: The small bakery she used to eat breakfast in. An interesting and unsuspected surprise after long hours of thinking of the vision of that stunning brunette, of trying to collect herself of the effect said brunette had on her and the tangled mass of information she had received that evening.

Unfortunately the shop was closed by the time she arrived. The time frame to buy freshly baked bread and buns was short on Sundays and Lauren had to cover a distance of at least twenty more minutes to get to her destination.

She could kill for one of those multi-grain bread buns, some home-made orange juice and a decent cup of black coffee. Nothing compared to a mug or two of freshly brewed Colombian coffee after an on-call shift. Especially like the last one.

Yes, the rumors about hospitals and caffeine were true. All of them. Too much, at nearly any occasion thinkable of and way too strong most of the time.

Some co-workers used to drink the brew even when it was already cooled off or reheated it in a microwave. They called it 'Plörre'. It wasn't about the taste, only about the boost. This night, the Doctor consumed a lot of said 'Plörre' or 'gnat's piss', her father once called his brother's coffee creation on a family dinner after spitting it back into his cup.

Lauren wondered whether her gastric mucosa was made of iron or maybe marble or if the receptors were already dead and not able to signal any pain to the brain anymore. Every nurse's station made sure to not run out of that black life force. It was some kind of a challenge of its own. There was a huge amount of milk, sugar and the brown powder of pure felicity stashed away.

Sanity and hypo-mania holding hands all the way through the shifts. At some point one could get confused whether it was a patient or a colleague next to them.

Back then on her first week, Frank advised, if a patient asks why she was stuck in a loony bin and what diagnosis those nut-balls of couch doctors imputed her with; then she was doing her job pretty well. It's nearly impossible to break through people's walls sometimes.

There's no better way to create a connection, than to let free your own little maniac deep inside, become an equal, not the one who closed the door to freedom and autonomy.

That one patient, a few years back, who rioted inside the unit by throwing chairs and threatening other patients and staff members, yelling at them to let him go, was one of the many patients no one could get through to. He refused to take his medication for a couple of days, because in his mind he wasn't sick.

 _"I do hear those voices! You, know. They are talking about me. Saying I am going to rape small girls and that I am going to kill my neighbors. Spreading rumors all around my neighborhood. But every time I try to get to those men talking bullshit about me, to force them to stop, they were already gone! Stupid sucker ran away. I'm not crazy. Those men are real."_

On the seventh day without his anti-psychotics, the voices were more present and persisted the entire day and the night, not only talking about him, but telling him to kill himself.

A dangerous mixture for a person with psychotic symptoms: No sleep nor protection of stimuli. When he kicked holes in the hallway's wall next to his room, the nurses had to react fast. They called for support of the police, because of his energy and the high level of rage the patient got himself in. He was as meek as a lamb when he saw the two police officers getting into the unit. He laid down flat on the ground and put his hands on his back face to the ground, not saying another word, just waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Lauren had felt guilty. What had this man been going through to behave like this? The next moment he was fastened to his bed and medicated, sleeping like a child. At those times, Lauren hated to be part of this machinery. Thinking about other possibilities to handle situations like that. With more time, the right space and enough staff, things could have been different. Less heated and without so much force.

Small stones of the gravel path squashed between the rubber of the wheels of her mountain bike, singing a song of squeaking and cracking through the sounds of wildlife. Her legs pedaled forward in a constant rhythm. She was inhaling and exhaling deeply. The fresh air cleaned her pulmonary alveoli, reviving her tired system. The smell of wet stone and tree bark lingering in her nostrils.

With every kick of the pedals the tension in her back loosened. Her rucksack swayed slightly from the left to the right and back again. Soft beams warmed her face, bare arms and legs. Before she had jumped on her bike, the Doctor had transformed into the Cyclist. Her inner-child screamed and danced in excitement. Finally, she could brush off this controlled facade and slip into another role in this theater she called life.

The black, white and red BMC-Outfit clinging perfectly to her body, like a second skin. The Swiss knew how to satisfy their costumer's needs. A pair of sunglasses secured her eyes of flies and other insects, which otherwise would be glued to her retina. There was no escape from the swarms of those tiny animals. Her hair, up in a ponytail was covered with a red helmet. Safety first, at all times. Maybe she couldn't get rid of the whole control-security-package after all.

The speedometer indicated, she was up to twenty five km/H and the small perfectionist in her knocked on the front lobe of her brain, saying that she could do better. So she sped up.

Twenty eight.

Twenty nine.

Muscles contracted and relaxed in sync. Shifting on to the next higher rear sprocket with a soft rub of the bike chain against the derailleur, Lauren pushed even harder, ignoring a light twitch in her upper legs.

A smile stretched across her face and a strong feeling of satisfaction spread in her chest. Her whiskey brown orbs stared on the small computer fastened at the handlebar, watching the numbers going up to thirty two.

When she looked back up, her smile fell immediately. There was a man standing about ten meters in front of her. She pulled the levers of the disk brakes as hard as possible and tried to steer her way around but it was too late. Her wheels blockaded and she flew across the handlebar. A burning pain shot through her left ankle. The next thing the Cyclist made out was a cold wetness all around her.

Somehow she had managed to direct her bike down the small embankment to the river. The water wasn't deep enough to drown in but it absorbed her fall quite well. Her heart was pounding heavy and fast. She could feel it all the way up to her throat. Breathing became an issue. Lightheaded, she was searching the slope up to the path for the person she thought she crashed into. Sure of the fact that he was hurt. But the man was nowhere to be found.

Shocked and confused Lauren stood up on shaky legs. Trying to bring down her heartbeat by decreasing her rush breathing. Her left ankle ached like hell. The clipless pedal hadn't loosened its grip on her cycling shoe fast enough so that her foot twisted unnaturally to the side when the rest of her body had already been in the air.

Her bike was laying with one wheel in the river, the other was still spinning slightly hovering above the green grass of the riverside. With the use of her hands she crawled back out of the water. Her sunglasses neatly placed on her nose, like nothing had happened.

When she placed her damaged foot on safer ground, a dull pain forced her to sit down on the grass next to her mountain bike.

 _"Shit!"_

While sitting on the green grass she stared at the other side of the river. What had just happened? She was one hundred percent sure, that she saw a man standing in her way. Where did he go? He couldn't have vanished into thin air. He had to be somewhere. Yet again, Lauren took a look in both directions of the path she had been cycling on. But there was no one to be seen.

Sighing in frustration, she tried to stand up again after checking her wound. No broken bones just bruised and the area around her ankle began to swell. This time she made it all the way around her bike and heaved it back up. To steady herself she leaned on its frame with one hand and the other holding the handlebar tight, walking awkwardly up the embankment.

Water was running down her whole body. It would be one hell of a trip back to her apartment with an aching ankle. Thankfully her bike wasn't broken, so she didn't need to carry the extra weight. That would have been impossible, because of the fact, that holding herself upright was more than enough to manage.

Shaking her head a few times to clear her mind and refocus the blonde felt a slight headache coming up. Sitting back on the saddle, the Cyclist slipped her good foot back into the clip of the pedal. She would have to push and pull with one leg the remaining fifteen kilometers back home.

When she arrived at her apartment, Lauren put her bike away with all the power left in her weakening and tired state of being. The stairs to the second floor felt like they had rebuilt themselves mitosis-like. She was sure that there were at least thirty more steps than the last time she had to climb up to her front door.

After a quick shower, more leaning against the wall than actually standing under the spray of water, she bandaged her ankle with some arnica-sports-gel and a stretchable gauze.

Her stomach was still empty and longed for something. Anything. Hobbling through the bathroom and living room she entered the small kitchen. She grabbed some Chinese leftovers from the other day that smelled fresh enough and hadn't developed their own fragile ecosystem, just yet. Together with a bottle of water she made her way past the small den with papers of her research placed neatly not only on her desk, but the floor and windowsill, too, and finally the blonde Doctor ended up in her bedroom closing the door and the curtains to shut out the world around her. The need to rest was more present now than it had been in weeks. She tried to shut down her mind without much pain in her body foregrounded even more now that she settled down.

Sleep was overrated. That's what she told herself from time to time. Especially when it wouldn't come, because of the ache in her ankle and the thunderstorm inside her head. Thoughts she couldn't gather while tossing and turning on her king size bed.

There was this new patient, Bo Dennis, and her unexpected story about an organization which tortured her in the most unthinkable ways possible. The false husband, who forced his way into the Doctor's office to catch this mysterious woman Lauren tried to bond with and to build a level of trust with. Then this accident on her way back home. It had been a tough twenty-something hours.

Several hours later the church bell clock next to the clinic was striking seven pm when Lauren stepped out of her car to get back into work-mode. Good thing she bought a car with automatic gear system so her bruised foot could relax and let the healthy one do all the work of pushing the gas pedal.

The black Smart was quite an eye-catcher, when the blonde maneuvered into the smallest parking spaces without much effort. She had decided to get back to her office as soon as possible. She had at least dozed off for quite some time and felt refreshed enough to reboot her brain for the things she had left undone the other night. Hopefully she could also catch a glimpse of Miss Dennis.

Walking through the entrance and the quite hallway to the elevator, she pushed her key in the lock of the control panel and turned it around until a light next to the button switched on telling her the lift would be coming soon.

The man at the reception looked up shortly to greet the Doctor when she passed by. At times, Lauren had earned some remarks about not having a proper home or if she had lost something on her way out, but that receded with the years.

Stepping into the cabin of the elevator she held onto the leather strip of her bag. Yet again her thoughts drifted off to the brunette, like there was nothing left to think about. She had hoped to find Miss Dennis in the secure unit. The twenty four hours ran out in about fifty two minutes and there had been no reason to initiate some kind of involuntary commitment. This woman was no harm to herself or to others and didn't do anything to provoke a fight once she had arrived in the unit.

No judge would agree to a treatment against the brunette's will.

Lauren also hoped that this Mr. Thornwood hadn't showed up at her door by now. She occasioned a blockade for any kind of information anyone would ask for and that there would be nobody allowed to visit the woman. By the look in the brunette's eyes and the things she had told Lauren, she wasn't as sure as she should be, that it had worked out. She didn't know what this men were capable of and how far they would go to get what they wanted.

The Doctor was heading to the door with the letters ' _Station 12'_ as soon as the elevator opened its portal to the second floor. All kinds of emotions ran through her belly and chest.

What would be waiting for her behind the locked entrance of the secure unit?

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 **Please feel free to leave a review or contact me on Twitter (adrenaLYNN1986)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there, chapter eight is up. This one is dark and contains violence, also if you get scared easily, you should probably not read this. Tell me what you think. I love reviews. Thanks for sticking around and have fun.**

 **Don't own any of the characters.**

 **Thanks to my precious beta, EmCelle.**

 **So let's start:**

Chapter 8

 **(BO)**

It wasn't the sleeping in particular that was the problem. Most of the time Bo slept really deep, _that_ was the issue. The deeper she fell into the blackness of unconsciousness, the more she drifted along the dark river of memories buried at the furthest corner of her mind, the less she could free herself from the tight grip of those ravenous souvenirs she had collected unwillingly since that day on her twelfth birthday.

The pictures she saw, while diving further into oblivion, were switching between slow motion and fast forward regardless of their topic or time frame. Mixed with unnaturally distorted sounds of voices yelling orders. They wouldn't leave her alone. Those frightening recurrent recollections the brunette went through every time she closed her eyes, felt as real as reliving them again in flesh and blood, like she had run back in time.

She could feel the cold wind on her barely covered skin and smell the scent of the upcoming snow in her nostrils. Winter was coming, and that was definitely not only a phrase but a promise. She could still taste the peppermint gum on her tongue already spit out on the ground long time ago. She wasn't allowed to chew any kind of sweets.

She found herself standing on that same spot in the middle of the night in her nightgown. The same spot they always chose for their tests. Waking her up and dragging her outside, every four to seven days. She wasn't supposed to get used to any type of routine. She was meant to expect the unexpected. To react as fast and targeted as possible in any occasion. That's what they taught in their lectures.

Her ears were filled with the deep voice of a man screaming at her. Words she couldn't hear clear enough for the sentences to make sense. But she recognized the owner of the voice yelling at her.

It had always been the same tone and use of syntax. He wouldn't conjugate the verbs he used and emphasized the words in the wrongest way one possibly could. He had this monotone yet dangerously imperious way of repeating the important parts.

The few words Bo could process in her almost drunken state of being deep asleep and halfway back to waking up, rumoring around in a constant wave to conquest body, mind and soul.

 _Do...Focus...No Do...Focus...Take...Focus...Life...Focus...Death...Now do! Now do! Now do!_

When Bo looked down along her bare right arm to her fist, clenched tightly, she not only saw but _felt_ the cool steel of a syringe holding in the hollow of her hand. Shaking slightly she opened the ball her tiny, freezing cold fingers had built around the sharp instrument.

Like all the time Bo had been awoken in her own dreamland of fear, she found herself back in those turning points in the life of her younger version. Those times, where she had been trained in her skills and taught to be hard as iron and tough as leather.

When she dreamed on, the angle of vision switched into third person perspective. This time she watched her thirteen year old self standing in the middle of the woods. Her tiny frame shivered terribly. Every muscle tried its best to produce body warmth by contracting and relaxing, which turned into rapid uncontrollable movements.

Her teeth were chattering and the color of her skin turned from white into red. Some parts of her body, especially her lips and the tip of her nose were already shimmering in a deep violet.

Bare feet were tapping on the spot she was forced to remain still. The cold and wet ground, had hardened after weeks of freezing weather. Winter was coming with huge steps and wouldn't stop until the last bit of autumn leaf had vanished.

Bo continued to watch herself, unable to interact. The man next to the small girl was holding her left forearm in a strong grip. The figure was wrapped up in what seemed like a black coat. The outlines blurred into the darkness of the night. She couldn't see his face, but smell his unique scent of sweat, cigarettes and that Davidoff Cool Water Eau de Toilette.

Her instructor.

The girl held the syringe up in the air in front of her face. A milk-like liquid filled the cylindrical hollow, slowly swinging its content from left to right. The voice grew even more demanding.

 _Focus...Now do!... Focus..._

Brown orbs, looking directly at Bo. Fearful, wide opened eyes fixed on the grown up woman. Stretching her right arm forward, the brunette tried to get a hold on the torture-like instrument, but couldn't reach it. The older brunette was incapable to stop what she knew was coming and relived every single emotion all over again.

Those disturbing emotions she had felt years ago right there on that spot. Looking at her smaller version she could read them in her eyes like a mirror of her inner self.

Insecurity, helplessness, resignation, impuissance, trepidation, anxiousness.

Bo watched the younger brunette taking one final breath. The teenager closed her eyes for a brief moment and everything went silent. No blowing wind, no whistling branches, no demanding voice yelling orders just lips moving furiously without a sound.

A heavy and fast intake of one last breath, surrounded of the sound of a racing heart, pounding like jungle drums announcing the beginning of war broke the tension-filled quietness.

She opened her eyes again, more focused and with new found energy the older brunette hadn't seen for a long time. Bo was shaking her head, forming words in her brain, mouthing them in a silent whisper to stop the inevitable. Like the audience of a theater play, she had to look at the scene, waiting for the protagonist to finish the act everybody knew would end in tragedy.

In one swift movement teenage-Bo rammed the steel needle into her upper arm, screaming while pushing the plunger, pressing all of its content into her small body.

An invisible power dragged the older brunette froward. The girl kept on screaming high and loud like a water boiler with eyes shut closely, head rising in the night's sky. The moon was shining down like a street lantern, casting its light on the young girl. A spot light accentuating the scene. Stars were sparkling dangerously, ready to combust within the next seconds.

With a sudden crack and a sharp inhale of breath the woods fell silent again. A last animal like grunt of the young brunette and her head fell down, her hair covered her features, facing the ground.

Bo was now standing right in front of her smaller self. Centimeters apart, she reached up to touch the almost freezing blue hand still holding the now empty syringe against the girl's upper arm. Her own warm fingertips brushing slightly against the cool flesh of the other girl's knuckles.

A lump in Bo's throat made it hard to swallow the bitterness in her mouth. She was used to the taste coming with every injection, but it was awkward to experience it without the milk like substance running through her own veins.

Bo was trying to vocalize the words lying on her tongue, embraced with doughy saliva. This had been the twenty third time she was forced to inject herself with an unknown liquid. All they had told her, that this would be one part of the test. She could remember her hesitation. The brunette had seen many broken vagabonds, when she grew up on the streets, using needles to feel again. Some of them failed miserably and had been dead in less than mere minutes, caused by their incapability to fine-tune the dose.

The first twenty two times, Bo had rejected to do as told and the punishment for her insolence had been getting harder and harder to withstand. Every time she had refused to behave as commanded, they had brought her back to the compound. She wasn't allowed to get back inside. Her instructor would put a chair down on the cold grass next to the wall of her sleeping quarters and that had been where she would have had to sit until sunrise, wearing nothing but her nightgown and the syringe placed on a small table which was positioned right in front of her.

The nights grew colder and longer and the younger Bo had known at some point, that there had been no other option than to become the mindless follower her bosses wanted her to be.

That was the scene she was now watching on widescreen. The scene to which the older brunette was a witness of for what felt like the thousandth time. This had been the first time Bo had successfully been forced to poison herself with a drug which effects were left unsaid.

She could remember the feeling of the sharp needle piercing through her flesh and perforating the muscle of her upper arm. The pressure the oily liquid caused to create space in the fiber of her muscular tissue had burnt like fire. The faster she had pushed the plunger the more it had hurt but time had been precious. The longer it took for her to fight her fears and ram the sharp instrument in her body, the louder the voice of her instructor was cutting through the night and the colder the wind was blowing around her tiny frame.

 _Girl do good... Girl now wait... Girl no more fight..._

Without a proper night's sleep since the first time she was dragged outside for this ordeal, the weaker and less concentrated she became.

She couldn't risk making more mistakes in her workout and tuition. Every failure meant more and crueler ways to make her pay for the lack of seriousness and respect towards those who lectured her and the training itself.

So on this cold night in early November she couldn't stand it anymore and just gave in. The anger coursing through her veins, filtrating every cell and growing with every breath she made, infected her very thoughts and settled inside her chest. That anger disappeared slowly to make room for even more potent feelings.

Hatred and disgust.

She hated herself for being weak and for breaking her own promise, to fight against their torture, to withstand every try of breaking through her walls. She was disgusted by her lousy attempt of being true to herself and staying strong. The thought of metamorphosing into their little soldier, their war-toy, left her feeling sick.

At those moments she had held her necklace tight, rubbing over the edges. It soothed her rage and inner commotion. They stole it from her. The second time she refused to act out piercing that needle through her epidermis.

She tried to get it back. Twice. She knew where they stoked away the confiscated stuff. The first time, they found her sneaking around, she was escorted back into her quarters with a warning and two hours of extra workout. The second time she had almost made it back to bed with her precious gift when they came for her. The weals of the whip like branch had burnt for days on her calfs.

Still gently stroking the younger Bo's knuckles, the older brunette's other hand came up to brush away some strands of hair to look in the girl's face. Halfway to touching her tresses Bo stopped her hand when she heard a clicking sound and a heavy inhaling of air coming from the small frame in front of her.

The young girl rose her head and now piercing blue eyes stared back at Bo. Her mouth slightly opened and within another second, the clicking stopped and her younger self let go of the syringe and grabbed the brunette's hand which was caressing the girl's knuckles in a iron clad grip.

Gasping, the woman tried to step back but couldn't move her feet. Her brown orbs were flying inexorably from those blue eyes, to the syringe now laying on the ground next to her right foot, to the young girl's hand holding her own and back to her eyes.

The younger version of Bo was still staring at her with something in the girl's eyes Bo couldn't lay a finger on. The grip on her hand tightened even more like ferrule on a workbench and it began to hurt with every passing second. Bo's eyes grew wider with disbelief when she saw the mouth of the teenager opening more broadly and her jaw bones dislocating like a snake would do while trying to swallow an egg. The color of the face in front of her turned from light reddened into light gray and the area around her eyes were now pitch black, letting the white of her sclerae and the deep blue of her pupils shine out even more threateningly.

A crack of bones filled the otherwise soundless surroundings. The instructor was still standing at the younger girl's side smiling down proudly. His dark shape vanished into thin air the second he started laughing. The echo resonated, getting louder and louder. The heavy roar of his voice bellowing in the brunette's ears. Her heart was racing, she felt a cold breeze of wind against her skin, wet of a thin line of sweat.

Looking back at her hand, Bo felt a sharp ache in her metacarpal bone running through her wrist up her forearm into her upper arm. The younger girl was twisting Bo's hand and forced the woman to her knees, face contorted with pain.

 _"Why... them... to us? ...didn't you...hurting us?"_

The voice of the teenager was barely noticeable. A whisper spoken into the echo of laughter still ringing in Bo's ears.

"Wha-what? I don't- _ouch!_...I don't understand!"

Shifting her eyes up to the girl's face now hovering over her own, the brunette could smell a mix of peppermint and moos. The teenager's features switched back to normal. Her skin now back in its former white and slightly reddened color and the blue eyes turning brown again. She leaned down her lips brushed against Bo's cheek to rest at the side of her head. The laughter was fading away leaving a perilous silence.

"Why did you let them do that to us? Why didn't you stop them hurting us?"

"I-I tried. You know that I tried!"

"Why, Bo? You promised to fight! You promised to take care of us."

"Please, you have to remember! I..."

"You let them drug me. You lied!"

Another crack of bones burst through the night and an instant rush of pain shot through her body. Her bones cracked. The girl was twisting Bo's hand even more, the angle of her arm made it impossible to move without dislocating her shoulder. She was sure her wrist was broken by the way the girl flexed her hand.

She had to get away. She had to get that hand of hers freed. She had to...

 _Wake up..._

Another voice. A voice she didn't recognize. A silhouette appeared behind one of the trees to the left. A tiny frame moving towards the woman almost laying on the ground with the young girl in her nightgown standing dangerously close above her.

 _You have to wake up..._

Bo's gaze wondered back to her younger version, who didn't seem to have noticed either the voice or the figure coming their way. Her mouth grew broader, dislocating her jaw bones and her skin changed colors yet again.

When Bo looked back into the direction of where the person was heading from, there was no one to be seen. Another crack, this time it wasn't Bo's bones but the girl's.

The clicking sounds filled the air again. Her neck was stretched abnormally to the left and her spine formed into an abstract hunchback, every vertebral body could be seen underneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. The bones of her upper legs smashed through the flesh but reminded under the surface of her skin, building bulges moving awkwardly, letting her fall to the ground. The grip on Bo's hand loosened and the woman took the chance to get up and run.

The brunette ran as fast as her feet would carry her. A scream of rage chasing after her. She couldn't see much of what was laying in front of her. All she knew was, she needed to get as far away as possible. Her legs felt wobbly upon the hard ground. She looked back behind her shoulder to see if the girl was following her, but there was just darkness.

When she turned back around she stumbled and fell hard. With her hands on the ground she wanted to push back up on her feet but her wrist gave in and she dropped back down with a cry of pain.

Rolling onto her back, holding her wrist she closed her eyes. It was over. She was sure her younger version would get to her in the next second. When she opened her eyes, she was looking up into deep blue orbs flying about two meters above of her in the blackness of the woods. Those were different from those she was forced to look at for what felt like eternity. They looked familiar.

 _You have to wake up, now..._

There was this voice again. Bo turned her head left and right. But she couldn't see anything or anyone. She could feel a cold hand on her left shoulder. Shocked she flinched away, but the hand was back on the same place in no time, not grabbing at her but drawing small cycles, caressing her. Fear ran through her blood system, pushing her down to the ground. She wasn't able to move. A sudden panic took hold of her mind.

 _Wake up...wake up... wake up..._

"Wake up!"

Bo sat up with a start. Breathing fast and heavy. Looking around with confusion. She was in her room in the safe unit laying on her bed. Her shirt was clinging to her chest, sweaty and cold. It was just another one of those dreams. She tried to soothe herself. Her eyes were searching through the darkness to rest upon those bright blue eyes she had seen in her nightmare seconds before.

"H-How..?"

Bo couldn't find the words she needed to ask the questions grumbling in her brain to get out. She was used to dreaming that dream. She knew what was going to happen before it happened. There were small deviations here and there and she had dreamed about a hundred of variations of her younger version but the outcome had been the same, always. She died, all the time.

"You were talking in your sleep and it sounded... unpleasant."

Kenzi, her roommate was sitting on the edge of the right side of her mattress.

"Yeah, you could say that."

Bo was looking down on her wrist, rubbing gently against her skin.

"I-I know it sounds-crazy, but..."

"You saw me."

Bo shook her head, to clear her thoughts and blinked several times. She was even more confused.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get into my head?"

Kenzi stood up and went back to her own bed. When she laid down, she turned her back to Bo and pulled the blanket up over her whole form, shutting out any conversation there could have been.

Bo sighed but was glad to be awake again. Maybe she could talk to the woman next to her in the morning. Thank her and ask better questions to not scare the younger woman away all over again. And maybe she wouldn't drift back into this place, she knew only death would wait for her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Oh my... it took me almost forever to update this story. I'm sorry for the long wait. I hope you are still somewhere out there, reading this. Thank you for all your support and kind words and suggestions and questions.**

 **Thank you Em.**

 **I don't own Lost Girl. I really just don't.**

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Chapter 9

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 **(Lauren)**

The door fell into its lock with a metallic clang. The milk glass window was vibrating in the steel frame for a second longer. Out of habit Lauren's hand reached behind her, holding onto the door knob. A proving push and pull. Making sure no one without a key could get in or out of the unit. Although somehow she was more worried about the uninvited guests sneaking their way in than anyone getting out.

One Friday afternoon the automatic lock system of the secure unit was broken and no one noticed until one of the patients came back from her little trip downtown with two plastic bags full of sweets.

 _"Weekend is coming and I needed new candy. Can't watch that talent show without my favorite chocolate bar!"_

The middle aged woman looked at the nurse in the office like it had been the most normal thing to do. She had been reported as missing two hours earlier and even the police were already searching for her as the treatment team had assumed, she escaped by climbing over the fence of the small garden.

Lauren moved along the empty hallway. Every step of her left foot on the ground felt like someone was thrusting a knife in the outside of her ankle. The piercing pain shot through her calf up to disappear somewhere underneath her knee. Biting her bottom lip she straightened herself up and tried to walk on in a relieving posture, one hand on the handle bar fixed along the right wall.

"Da! Da, da, da!"

A woman with gray hair around her sixties came rushing out of the first patient's room on the left. Fear was written all over her face. Her hands in the air. She stopped in her tracks in the middle of the hallway, looking in the direction of the glass door. The one the Doctor had just been coming through. Her green eyes searching along the wall. She didn't recognize the blonde standing only mere feet away from her. Her left hand started to tremble, still up in the air.

"Frau Jabatovic?"

Lauren spoke up quietly. Another step forward, she came up to the older woman's left side. She kept a distance from about an arm's reach. Mrs. Jabatovic needed space. She couldn't handle closeness.

"Da! Hören! Da!"

Both of her hands were shaking now, her gaze fixed on the wall near the entrance. Green eyes formed into tight slits, her head cocked to her left side, still staring ahead. In a sudden jolt she jumped forward and pressed her right ear against the wall.

"Hören!"

Mrs. Jabatovic was born in Norway when her parents had been on their holiday trip. She had been living in Germany for about twenty years now. Her journey brought her across three states. Norway, Bosnia i Herzegovina and Germany. She had moved from Bosnia to Germany while the civil war devastated the region. The region her whole family came from.

They all died in the Yugoslav War when she was around forty. Her two daughters, her mother, her father, her two brothers and a few uncles and aunts, they all had been shot by gun fire of the enemy. Mrs. Jabatovic was the only one who had survived that massacre in nineteen ninety five.

That's when her mind tried to find a new reality. Her sanity begged for her to forget after watching her relatives going limp, laying on a carpet of dark red blood, empty eyes staring at her, looking straight through her. She made it to Germany before the circumstances forced her brain to shut down. Since that day she switched between a catatonic condition, sitting and staring, and the furious state when her mind made her believe she was hearing energy floating in the walls around her.

She was brought into the clinic by the police, who had found the woman yelling words in her mother tongue while she used a sledgehammer to batter her walls.

"Energie! Energie!"

"Frau Jabatovic?"

A young nurse came into the hallway. She smiled a silent hello to the blonde.

"Back again I see. Frank is in the garden. He said, he'd like to talk to you. I'll take care of Mrs Jabatovic. It's one of her poorer days."

"Thanks Karla. If you need me, just..."

Karla waved her off.

"Yes, Doc. It's still your day off. Even if you have decided to hang out with us cool kids. Right Mrs. Jabatovic?"

Karla took the place at the wall a few feet away from the bubbling Bosnian, with her ear also flat against the colder stone. She looked at the woman. The young nurse's black hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders. Her blue jeans a bit too tight around her hips, as the green shirt tried to cover the feminine curves. A pair of blue eyes seemingly concentrated to listen to the wall's voices.

"Ich höre keine Energie Frau Jabatovic."

The gray haired woman blinked and looked at the nurse leaning close by. When her mind was back hunting the stream of volt, it wasn't interested in understanding German words. Usually the older woman could easily converse in three languages. She was an educated woman. Even had a PhD in Chemistry and Biology, but the state she was in now, left nothing but confusion in her brain.

Karla saw the struggle in those green eyes, her voice grew softer as she backed off of the wall again.

"No Energy. Come with me, please."

Lauren watched as Mrs Jabatovic stepped back and turned around. Not a word, not a look, no stirring of emotions on her face. She just walked away. Mumbling words only she knew the meaning of, right behind her was Karla, smiling reassuringly at the Doctor. Mouthing an 'it's okay' before both disappeared in the room the older woman had walked out of earlier.

The blonde shook her head. She knew it was indeed okay. Karla was a good nurse and she would treat the patients she was taking care of sympathetically. She did her job well and it didn't feel like work when she was around.

So Lauren continued her path down the hallway. For the first time she was aware of the sweet scent of baked goods in the air and she could hear music playing at the far end of the unit. She walked past the closed door of the nurse's station and headed towards soft noises of laughter. Some patients were sitting in the smoking area, others were watching TV in the recreation room.

It seemed like a quiet Sunday.

"C'mon chica, swing your hips with me!"

A cheering voice with a thick Spanish accent interfused with the sound of guitars and drums coming out of a radio growing louder the nearer Lauren got to the kitchen door. Leaning on the frame she watched the scene in front of her.

The room looked like a bakery. Everywhere flour and utensils one needed to create the magic Lauren could see getting golden brown in the oven. At the sink there was Rosa holding a huge bowl with one hand, while the other one, a sponge in a tight grip, was high up in the air rotating in the rhythm of the Latin song filling the space.

Rosa shook her whole body in a gypsy like dance. She was rather short, but the lack of height was compensated in the size of her midsection. A lot of belly, butt and breast was waving to the beat. Her brown hair was cut short. A pair of multicolored glasses framed her face. Rosa was born in Spain. Her temper sometimes got the best of her, especially when she could bathe her surroundings in all the things she loved about her culture.

Right next to her there was the woman Lauren couldn't rid her thoughts of. Miss Dennis wore a big smile on her face, while she let herself get caught up in the moment. Eyes closed she was swaying her toned body to the picking of the guitar. Both women seemed to be in their own world. Covered in the white powder all over their aprons and parts of their clothes. Their hands dirty with pieces of dough.

In the corner opposite of the entrance the blonde was standing in, was Kenzi. Sitting on the kitchen counter, pressed into the wall, legs pulled into her body with her chin on her knees. A small and almost invisible smile on her lips. As soon as she spotted the Doctor looking back at her, her face grew blank again. Lauren waved her right hand hello, wearing a smile herself before she held her right forefinger to her lips, forming a 'shh' and nodding to the Spanish nurse and the mysterious brunette.

"Oh now my favorite part!"

With that Rosa pushed off of the sink and spun around in circles, both hands in the air and stomping her feet hard on the floor in sync with the drums.

"C'mon, beautiful lady! Let me see your moves!"

Gripping on the waist of the stunned brunette with the left and a wrists in a firm hold with her right, Rosa pulled the woman flat against her body. Laughing and spinning they danced across the room. Long brown hair in a ponytail flying in the air around her head. Rosa only reached half the size of the brunette, she was holding on tightly.

The Doctor couldn't help the sounds forming in her chest any longer as she started laughing along with the two women. Miss Dennis stopped abruptly and pushed herself out of Rosa's embrace. The Spanish nurse cheered herself and clapped her hands.

"Woooh. Girl, you know how to let your inner Latin out. Great!"

Brown eyes were staring at the Doctor with a shocked face and a tensed body, still leaning at the door frame. Lauren smiled back at the brunette. They looked at each other intensely, not realizing that the music was fading away as Rosa turned the volume down.

"Oh hey Doctor Lewis. The three of us just made some Tortas de Aceite. Miss Malikov over there is leading the charge to watch over our work and Miss Dennis here is helping me with the dough."

A shy smile tucked on the woman's face looking down on her hands brushing along her apron.

"Yes, I can see and smell that Rosa." She threw a wink at Kenzi, still sitting like a ball on her overlook.

Lauren made a step towards the oven sniffing in the scent of anise and sesame. Forgetting the pain but got reminded of it the second her hurt ankle touch the floor. She had to hold herself up on the fridge next to her.

"What happened to you?" Looking up, she saw a three pair of eyes glued to her. The concern in Miss Dennis' voice was unmistakable. The raven haired patient slid down from her seat on the counter and was now slowly walking towards the blonde, with her body clutched to the wall and her left hand stroking the ingrain wallpaper.

Lauren felt a sudden heat upon her cheeks. "It's nothing. Just a bruised ankle."

Miss Dennis moved closer. Her eyes boring into her. Asking for answers. "When you left me last night, you were alright? What happened?"

Her words more demanding, more serious, more of _something_ Lauren wasn't sure about. There was this light tremble at the end of the question, that appeared less likely to actually be a question. It seemed as if the brunette knew something, but needed to be sure.

"I was riding my bike home. And- halfway there, there was this man..."

Her gaze dropped to the gray linoleum covered floor. "I don't even know anymore if there had been anyone. He wasn't there when I looked for him after I fell."

Rosa put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. Her motherly protective attitude radiating from her soft brown eyes.

"Lauren, you need to rest. If you don't want to go home, okay, but please go to your office and sit down. I'll go and get you some ice and afterwards feed you with those delicious goodies, Miss Malikov, Miss Dennis and I are baking."

Looking around, blue eyes were staring at her ankle. Kenzi was holding herself in a tight embrace of arms around her chest. Even those chocolate brown orbs observing the Doctor emphatically, waiting for a reaction to the shorter woman's request.

Lauren nodded slightly. "Yes. Yes you might be right."

Rosa laughed, patting her shoulder twice. "Sweety, I'm a nurse! Of course I'm right."

Smiling at each other, the blonde forced her legs to start moving. The pain had grown into throbbing evil. Maybe she underestimated her physical condition. Maybe the lack of sleep came on to her now, or maybe seeing that stranger in black looking at her like that, made her weaker in the knees than she would have admitted to herself.

"Come on, let me help you."

The woman holding so many secrets was rushing over to steady her steps. Some flour on her beautiful face on the right side of her jaw, Lauren hadn't noticed until now. Standing so close, bodies touching at the sides, a hand around the blonde's elbow and on her waist, she could smell a mix of the ingredients Miss Dennis must have used and the lightest touch of soap of the clinic's home brand. Although she knew that scent, it somehow smelled different on the skin of the woman helping her to walk to the door.

"Thanks, but I can.."

"It's okay Doctor Lewis. Just let us get you to your office okay? I'll be right back Rosa."

But the nurse was already back to cleaning the kitchen and just smiled across the room at the two of them.

Kenzi pushed herself forward and rushed out into the hallway. Moving one foot in front of the other, Lauren let herself be carried along the way. The aching in her steps consumed most of her attention but the sweet smelling brunette holding her a bit too tight around her midsection and the feel of her muscles moving underneath the blonde's fingertips placed on the other woman's shoulder weren't easy to ignore.

They stopped in front of the office door for Lauren to unlock it. Once inside Miss Dennis led her to the armchair. Helping her to sit down, the brunette slid her hand over the Doctor's forearms to rest on each side of the chair on the armrests. Their faces only a few inches away. A pair of brown pools staring daggers at her hazel ones. The other woman's features grew harder with every breath she took.

"Miss D-"

"You, you tell me what happened. You understand? Every piece of information."

Lauren shook her head slightly, swallowing down the sudden twinge of panic. Maybe she was wrong and that woman was more dangerous than she wanted to see. Maybe she had let her beauty and the attraction she felt in the stranger's presence fog her rational and professional self.

"I- uh... it's like I said, I..."

The brunette's right hand shot up and took hold on her left shoulder. Her thumb was pressing hard into the soft flesh underneath the Doctor's collarbone. The blonde's heart sped up in pace. She could feel the rush of blood in her veins and hear it in her ears. Miss Dennis pushed her deeper into the back of the chair.

"You listen to me. I need to know everything."

"You're hurting me." The Doctor whispered, fear spreading across her chest. She should have taken the emergency telephone with her. Now all she could do was scream for help, but her lungs refused to work properly as every breath was caught in her throat.

There was a flicker in those dark eyes in front of her and the grip on her shoulder loosened immediately. The woman's face softened and she blinked twice before she pulled away and sat down on the small coffee table behind.

"I- God I'm sorry. I, that, it wasn't my intention. I..."

Miss Dennis was seemingly searching for the right words to say and her gaze dropped to her feet, hands playing with the dirty patches on her apron. Lauren smoothed her shirt and massaged the area around her collar, scanning the office, not sure what she was looking for.

"Doctor?"

Lauren looked back at the brunette. She was sitting with her forearms on her legs, leaning forward and slipping to the edge of the plate to get closer again. Her voice less frantic and her body less tense.

"Look, it is really important, that you try to remember all the details."

"Why is that important, Miss Dennis? Why do you need to know any of this?"

"Because..."

She looked away. The blonde adjusted her sitting position to mirror the brunette's.

"Because?"

The woman inhaled deeply and held her breath a few seconds. It felt as if she was struggling with the truth.

"Okay", a heavy exhale of warm breath caressed the Doctor's cheeks, "we're playing by your rules then."

Clapping her hands on her legs, the brunette sat up straight, looking right into the blonde's waiting eyes.

"I think you were marked."

The blonde blinked. "What?"

"Those men, they don't play games. Those men are straight outta hell. Those men...They act on their own justice." The woman's left hand reached out to touch Lauren's right knee. "You made yourself one of their targets by helping me. They would do anything to get me. You hear me, _anything!"_

"But this is insane. I mean, why..."

The brunette squeezed her thigh gently. Shaking her head.

"Doctor, you've seen insanity. You work with insanity, those men aren't insane. They are evil."

Lauren shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"So, this morning I cycled along the river, like I always do. The path was empty and I felt lighter with every breath I took. So I sped up. I- uh, I wasn't looking. My eyes were fixed on my speedometer. I don't know what it was but something made me look back up and..."

Her left hand went through her tresses. A brush of the thumb still laying on her thigh brought her attention back to the woman sitting in front of her, waiting, listening, watching the blonde patiently.

"... there was this man standing in the middle of the path. Everything happened so fast. I stirred my bike, tried to ride around him. But I'm sure I caught him. I was so sure, that I hit that man. But when I looked back up, after I fell and landed in the river, there was nobody there. Nowhere, I... I was so sure, I..." her voice broke at the end.

The brunette nodded and stood up in a jolt. "Damn!"

Pacing along the small office, she rubbed her hands over the sides of her thigh. Lauren watched her, until she stopped and spun around. Kneeling down next to the chair the Doctor was still sitting in, she glared at the blonde.

"Okay, listen. I'm pretty sure that they marked you. Like a tree in the woods that is ready to be cut down. But they didn't use painting, they made you vulnerable. A wounded bear is easier to hunt. But it's also more hazardous!"

Miss Dennis took hold on the blonde's hand. Her warm fingers wrapped around the cool skin of her palm.

"You are in danger, Doc."

A lump in the blonde's throat let her choke. She felt a shiver down her spine and she felt dizzy. Panic spread through her veins.

"What, what should I do?" She spoke in a whisper, afraid to hear the sound of her own voice.

"You go home and you stay there. Lock your doors and close the curtains. Don't leave your apartment."

The Doctor shook her head no.

"But I can't just hide and do nothing. I have to work tomorrow at eight and I.."

"You call in sick!"

"What? But I'm not..."

The brunette motioned to her aching ankle. She had forgotten all about that throbbing pain. She tried to remember when she had called in sick for the last time. But probably she had never been ill.

"You call in sick! You hear me?"

The brunette was about to move away.

"But what about you?"

The doctor gripped the wrist of the woman, who wanted to stand up again. Looking deep into each other's eyes. Searching for solutions. A small smile tugged on the brunette's lips and she shied away, slipping out of the hold the blonde had on her. She straightened up and slowly walked to the door.

"I'll be gone. I'm leaving tonight. They have to stop looking for you. I'm gonna make them stop looking for you."

Lauren stood up way to fast and lost her balance. Waiting for the bounce that would come eventually, when she fell. But instead she crashed into the warmth and strength of Miss Dennis. "Easy there. You should sit and rest for a bit."

Holding on to each other, close enough to feel the hot and wet breath from the patient puffed on the Doctor's skin. Lauren watched brown orbs growing darker. A rush of heat splashed along her belly up to her cheeks. She found herself staring at those pinkish lips in front of her. A heavy hand pulled on her hip bone, pressing her more tightly into the brunette. Her own hands on both of the other woman's shoulder blades.

A knock on the door and a key in the lock startled them apart. A flood of embarrassment swept through the blonde and when she stole a glance back at Miss Dennis, she could see the same emotions on her reddened face. The office door opened and Frank came in.

"Oh hey workaholic." His voice teasing and cheerful. He nodded at the brunette, "Miss Dennis."

A nod, a wave of her hand and a "Hi and bye!" and the woman with the white apron upon her black clothes left the room and vanished into the depth of the unit.

"What the..."

Frank closed the door. Shaking his head.

"Hey Frank."

The blow of cold air coming in from the hallway hit the blonde's heated skin like ice water. Sitting back down she held her forehead after soothing her jeans. What the heck did she think she was doing?

"Hey, Rosa told me about your ankle. You should have stayed home."

He pointed at her feet on the floor, a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, I know and I'm about to head out. I just need a minute or two. On night shift again, I see?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You think you could drive like that?"

Lauren appreciated his ministration and apprehension. But right now, after all the things that she had heard and seen the last forty eight hours, the things she was feeling and the thoughts running wild in her brain, she just wanted to be alone for some time.

To be alone to sort out what she was doing, what she should be doing instead and how she could get the professional distance back, she wasn't proud to have lost somewhere along the way when that mysterious, damn gorgeous, brunette was concerned.

Frank turned around and went through the door, but came back inside fiddling a white envelope out of his back pocket.

"Oh, that's why I wanted to see you, Lauren. There was a man at the reception this morning right after you left. I saw him when he handed this to Paula, but I wasn't fast enough to catch him."

Paula was one of the receptionists. A smart young girl around twenty five.

Frank handed the paper to the Doctor.

"What is this?"

Frank shrugged and smiled at her.

"Well, it's for you. I didn't peek!"

"Do you know who gave it to her?"

Frank shook his head no. Lauren nodded and thanked the male nurse. She waited until he left the room and the door was closed again. Silence hung in the air. The only sound came from the office clock, ticking alarmingly. Like a timer on a detonator. Steady and unswervingly. She turned the envelope but there was no sender written on either side. Just 'Doctor Lewis' in big, black letter written on its back. The pounding of her heart beat almost doubled the clicking of the clockhand.

She opened the front and revealed a small sheet of paper, folded in the middle. Holding the paper in both her hands, she flipped it open and her heart sunk inside of her. Her chest was heaving and her breath cut short. One hand covered her mouth. The blood pressure increased in her veins as she stared on a black painting. An eagle printed with outstretched wings to either side. A circle with the symbol for infinity. It was the same symbol she saw on the wrist of Mr. Thornwood.

 _"Shit!"_

* * *

 **I hope that wasn't borning... So, what you think?**


	10. Chapter 10

It's been a looong time. But I managed to find some kind of muse again. So this is a fill-in chapter. I hope you like it.  
Please let me know what you think. Like or dislike.

Thanks to FreeingTheWriterWithin for reading it through :)

Here you go:

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Chapter 10

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(Bo)

It hurt. Hot water on snow frozen skin. Bo knew it would hurt eventually.

It always did.

She was prepared. This feeling of flames all over one's fingers burning through flesh and bone after touching ice with bare hands for too long. It was almost impossible to bend them and even harder to stretch them out again.

"You have five minutes to clean up your mess!"

His growling voice pierced through the hallway before he closed the bathroom door. He was waiting on the other side, staring on the clockhand of his black Italian Panerai-Luminor watch.

He always did.

Five minutes to wash off the dirt of her cold blue body. The water seemed to boil her skin. Red spots marked her flesh where the drops plunged _on_ acid like. She held the tiny piece of soap in her hand and started rubbing it over her chest. It felt numb. The only thing she could feel was the persisting pain of her blood trying to get her body temperature out of the state of hypothermia. The thick smell of curd-soap filled the room immediately.

Her clumsy fingers were gilding over red weal and bloody scratches. Some were deep enough to leave scars. Yet again silent reminder of the brunette's mistakes tonight. The water was running down her shaking form and gathered in a pool of brown and red soup on the flagged floor to her feet.

"Four!"

He would continue counting. With that deep and dark voice. Low but unmistaken twanged the word through the thin wooden door. He would keep on letting her know, that she didn't have the time to take a breath. Even though the mission was over. She failed and had to get through the bitter aftertaste. So he kept on counting.

He always did.

Bo had a hard time washing herself. Her hands were shaking more than usually after a hunt in a cold winter's night. Her whole sixteen-year-old body was vibrating. She was angry. Frustration grew inside of her and made it even harder to focus on the work at hand.

It had felt colder this time as well. Colder than it had been before in the forest. In her inner eye, she went through the mission repeatedly. Her naked feet had to sneak soundlessly over an ice-cube-like undergrowth. Fifty minutes had passed before the brunette could make out her mark. She had already been way too late by then. Everything had to be even faster from that point on.

Brown eyes focused. Trained muscles tensed up. The well-oiled machinery was ready to take off. Ready to kill. The young deer in front of her hadn't had a chance. Bo acted fast and silent and within seconds the animal's neck was broken with an almost inaudible crack. It had felt like a matchstick underneath her deft hands.

Only a few minutes later she already headed back to the compound. Not much time had been left to finish the one and a half kilometer that separated her from her destination. One and a half kilometer of thicket and snow-covered landscape.

Without hesitation, she sped up. Bo was running like never before. It almost felt like flying. Adrenalin rushed through her veins. Poisoning her body. Telling her lungs to breath more efficiently, cheering her legs to run faster.

The soles of her feet couldn't feel the ground underneath anymore. They had been numbed for some time by now. Her brain delegated on autopilot. The priority clear. She had to make it this time. She couldn't fail again. Not twice a week. She couldn't go through the torture of misbehavior again. Not again. Not tonight.

It had been snowing all day. White frozen droplets turned the dreary surroundings into winter wonderland any child would have loved to play in, but also Bo's path into a slippery playground slide. She wasn't playing. She hadn't been a child for some years anyway. The moonlight couldn't light up her way bright enough for her otherwise night trained vision to see the thick stamp of an old rotten tree a few meters ahead.

In the blink of an eye the brunette's left foot hit the barrier and it disturbed her greyhound-like run. She stumbled forward over the dead wood. Her attempt of trying to steady her fall with her right foot went literally downhill. The hunter stepped on a pond of thick mud under a blanket of rotten leaves and slipped. Her heart skipped a beat when she fell into a bramble. Its branches embraced her pajamas covered body. Thrones sharp like tiny needles with bards ripped through the clothes and pierced through her soft skin.

The brunette forced herself to get up again. Wet clothes only meant an even colder way back. Her right ankle must have twisted while she was falling. When she tried to put weight on it, a thunder of pain shot through her calf up to her thigh.

Bo looked up into the night sky. She didn't make a sound. The silence of the night clutched like a chain around her throat. When she closed her eyes, a sharp breath escaped her lungs. A single sob made its way out of her vocal chords. Bo was trained to suppress pain or at least to hide it well. A tear was running down her reddened cheek. Not because she was hurt but because she wouldn't make it in time anymore.

She had failed. Again.

"Three!"

Bo shook her head. She had to get out of the train of thoughts. For now, she needed to clean and patch up. She would have enough time to go through the mistakes she made. Another twenty-four hours of isolation without food and only a rationed amount of water in a bright room where the light never went out. They called it 'the white room'. They didn't want its visitor to know the time of day.

"Two!"

She needed to hurry and turned the water off even though she wasn't done showering yet. The soap would dry on her skin eventually and leave her scratching herself with no end. Her body felt heavy. Wobbly legs walked over to the first aid kit that was lying on the ground close to the door. For once she was relieved that the room was small.

"One!"

Time flew by way too fast and Bo was way too slow to adapt to the speed limit. With shaky fingers, she fiddled package after package open that she needed to clean her bruises and cover her cuts.

"Ouh…."

She tried hard to keep it inside. The ache, the sorrow, her distress. His hand was lingering on the doorknob. She could hear his grip tighten. Only seconds separated her still naked self from being dragged downstairs. It was either throwing on some clothes that waited neatly folded on the chair to her left or continuing first aid and risking staying in her Eve-costume until she would be let back into her dorms.

The thought wasn't even finished when she felt the cold air draft of the door being opened on her wet skin. She closed her eyes and waited for what was about to come.

"I know what you are about to do."

Bo's eyes flew open when her ears made out the whispered words. Irritated of the sound of a female voice she looked around and found her very much adult self in a bed instead of the shabby bathroom. She was fully clothed and when she touched the spots she patched up only seconds ago, she found nothing but a small white line in her otherwise scarless upper arm.

The moon was shining bright again tonight. It was the only light in the room. The man on the moon must have meant it well, although Bo would have preferred the dark blanket of the night for her way out of the loony bin.

"I'm still in the hospital, aren't I?"

A pair of piercing ice blue eyes were staring back at Bo in the corner of the room. The young Russian she shared her room with, sat still on the small window sill.

"Very much, yes."

With a deep breath of relief, the brunette sat up and leant back on the headboard. She must have fallen asleep after talking to the doctor.

"What time is it?"

She needed to clear her head and prepare her escape. There was no time to rest. How could she have fallen asleep?

"Dunno."

The younger woman slid down from her seat and with her back to the wall she walked back to her side of the room while staring at the brunette.

"What did you mean? You know what I'm about to do?"

The other patient stopped in her tracks. Her hands flat on the wall next to her thighs.

"It means what it means, what it means," she said with a small voice staring daggers towards Bo. "I knoooow," she whispered, leaning forward away from her safe spot in the dark. The shine of the white plate in the sky framed her face and let her blue eyes glow mystically.

The brunette stood up from her bed and walked towards the black-haired woman. She stopped within an arm's reach and mirrored the other patient's standings position.

"Kenzi, right?"

Bo's voice remained soft and calm. The other woman nodded slowly.

"So, Kenzi. Let me ask my question differently. What _do_ you know?"

A small smile tickled around the corners of Keni's mouth.

"I know who you are. I know _what_ you are."

The brunette kept her cool, but on the inside, she was flabbergasted.

"I see. And what would _that_ be?"

The young Russian stepped sideways and danced around the room humming silently. She spun around and around on her heels and swung from side to side. Bo shook her head and stared to the floor.

"I see."

Her hands went through her open hair. The dancing girl's voice grew louder and her dance wilder.

So that was what insanity looked like _._

"I'm not insane!"

A shriek voice broke through the dark in the room. The humming stopped as fast as it began. When Bo looked up in shock, still asking herself if she had said those words out loud while questioning her own sanity, the smaller woman had somehow made her way next to the brunette.

Kenzi reached out and barely touched Bo's right ear. Her forefinger traced the path of the brunette's earlobe along the outer ear and paused half way up.

"You can hide it, but you can't hide it."

"What?"

Bo turned her head. Her patience had run out. She didn't have time for that.

"I can see. I can see you. I can see it."

"Okay, Kenzi. Just leave me alone. See whatever you want to see and know whatever you think you know."

When Bo was about to take a step, Kenzi grabbed her arm with the same hand that just a second before invaded her personal space.

"You can let your nice brown hair grow and hide it away, but I can still see the mark of the creature you are. They built you well. Strong."

"The heck…"

Bo shook her arm free. Before she could do anything else the black-haired girl pointed her forefinger out again and touched the space on her scalp about two centimeters away from her ear.

"It's still there."

"The fuck!"

Bo pushed the other woman away.

"Don't you dare touch me again!"

Kenzi smiled mischievously.

"You don't know, do you?"

Bo watched the woman in front of her.

"What in hell are you talking about."

Her voice was low and angry.

"Your designers."

"My what now?"

Kenzi grew serious again.

"The people who caught you and fought your soul until there was nothing left but the machine in front of me."

"You don't know nothing!"

Bo walked to the other side of the room. That child's play had to end now. She opened her closet and grabbed the little she had stored and put it on her pillow. She needed to get to her bag back.

"You need a key to get your bag."

Bo froze.

"Okay creep. Stop it! You can't possibly know what's going on in my head!"

Kenzi found her place on the other side of Bo's bed.

"No, that would be weird."

Bo nodded.

"Yes, it would."

"What did you feel when you killed that deer on that cold winters night? Or was the little bit of humanity that was left in you already dead?"

The brunette stared into the blue eyes in front of her. That was impossible.

"Who are you?"

"I'm special."

"Like in crazy?"

"Like in gifted."


	11. Chapter 11

**Here is a new short chapter. I hope you like it. The next will be BoLo again. I just needed to get some fill in first.**

 **Thanks to FreeingTheWriterWithin :***

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

(Lauren)

It was already dark when Lauren walked out of the electric glass doors at the hospital entrance. Her muffled steps on the concrete filled the silence on her way to the parking lot. The only light flickered dangerously, that was coming from a lonely lantern in the middle of the short path, which separated the blonde from her car. Right now everything seemed further away for her in the dark.

"Please don't give up on me now."

Her pleading words came out like a whisper while she was watching the strobe-like light with growing horror. Her injured ankle shot a pain through her leg and so she hobbled on feeling even more vulnerable with her handicap. A rustle rung out from the bushes to her left which made her heart beat faster. Flee or fight. Her body prepared for whatever decision she would make. Adrenalin started to flood up.

"Just the wind. Calm down. It's just…"

Lauren stepped around the corner to enter the parking area when she ran into a black clothed person. She couldn't make out their face in the dim light. The blonde felt a tight grip of a hand around her right biceps. Her breath was stuck in her throat. Only a squeak escaped her dry lips.

"Woa, woa, Doc. Vorsicht."

The raspy voice sounded familiar.

"Mister Paul. What are you doing out here so late in the evening?"

"I had a smoke and talked to my wife. I forgot the time and now I have to hurry. Did the nurses miss me already?"

The patient's hand loosened his embrace but stayed put around her upper arm. A thick German accent escorted every word he said.

"Are you okay? I didn't want to scare you. I was just speeding up pace to get inside."

Lauren shook her head. She wasn't okay. She was anything but okay. The Doctor swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the big lump right behind her tongue which had grown ever since she opened the envelope upstairs. She was freaking terrified.

"Nein, nein. Uhm, es geht mir gut."

She lied.

„Alles klar. Gute Nacht, Doc."

The patient let go of her and went straight back into the clinic. It wasn't allowed to be outside after nine in the evening. House rules. Lauren looked at her watch. How had it already gotten so late?

Lauren kept on walking. Her ankle didn't want to carry her weight any longer. It screamed for her to stop moving, to sit down, to let it rest. She couldn't listen just yet. Her car was almost in arms reach. She could already make out the outlines of the small Smart. The pain shot through her leg with every stomp her foot made.

The parking lot was almost empty. Only a few vehicles left. Lauren's heart was racing, her breath puffy. The darkness had inhaled every bit of light that was left from the lantern in the front of the clinic. Even the moon abandoned her. Having some stroll behind some cloud. The back of the lot where her car was waiting, yelled with heavy blackness towards her.

She held her wallet and phone in the left hand and clutched to the keys in her right. Her purse was at home. Lauren didn't know why she didn't take it with her. Usually she never left without it. Now she was seeking for something of more fabric than her wallet could give her to hold on tight.

Her thumb had to press the small button on the car key more than once before a loud beep echoed through the night, letting her jump up.

"God dammit!"

At least now there was some light. Her car was leading her last few steps like a flashlight. She opened the car on the driver's side, sat down, closed the door and pushed the button that locked the doors behind her.

Finally, she could breathe in again. She wasn't even aware that she had stopped breathing in the first place. Her lungs had started burning ever since she had sped up the last meter. With shaky hands, she turned the key into the ignition and shifted in back gear.

The way back home seemed longer than the usual. Around every corner the Doctor expected the worst. It was one hell of a drive. She tried to avoid standing still but traffic lights had their own head. The red signs had shined feverishly into Lauren's eyes. Burned their way through the windshield right onto her retina.

Another left turn and she steered onto the parking lot in front of the house her apartment was located in. Her forehead shimmered in the moonlight. A film of sweat covered her whole body like a coat. The car stood still. Again. The engine went silent. No sounds but the ringing in her ears. Her blood was boiling in her body and hammering through her veins like a percussion drill.

"Okay. Now go out, Lauren."

She cheered herself and tried to press the questions coming up back into Nirvana.

What if someone's waiting for her?

What if someone was watching her every step?

Where would they hide?

Where could _she_ hide?

And why was she still thinking about that brunette who was locked up on a secure unit?

The way the brunette had pushed her into the seat. The way her brown eyes glowed. The way her strong hand held her before they got interrupted.

The Doctor shook her head.

"Now or never."

She opened the door and turned around in her seat. Her feet were touching the ground of the pedestrian path. Looking left and right she stood up. The steady pain floating through her body made it pretty clear that this wasn't one of her paranoid-dream-scenarios.

Another step and she entered the staircase. She didn't turn the lights on. There was no time to lose arguing with the switch if it was up for working tonight. The facility manager just wouldn't show up to repair it.

Within seconds she was standing in front of her door. The key wouldn't find its way into the lock. It took several attempts before she could extricate herself out of the unbearable fright-mode and get to her afe heaven.

Breathing heavily, she leant against her front door and one lock, two locks, three locks clicked comfortingly when the blonde activated her very own security system. After her neighbors told her about burglars in the street, she installed extra locks some time ago. At that point, she thought she was overly protective, but now she patted herself on the shoulder for being so prescient.

Her still shaky hands let go of her phone and wallet and keys when she placed them on the sideboard next to the entrance. Slowly the blonde walked into the still unlit room to her couch. Next to it was a small side table with a lamp on top. In one swift move, she fell onto the soft pillows but didn't feel like switching on the dim light just yet.

She closed her eyes and tried to get rid of the tension along her spine by stretching her back. The pounding ankle needed attention as well but for now, the Doctor wanted to just lie there for a moment or two.

When she thought she had gotten her heartbeat back under control, she felt a puff of air blowing over her tried form. Her head turned around to one of the living room windows only to find it left open.

She never left the house without closing the windows.

As she sat herself back up, she was about to reach for the open window, when she saw a black silhouette sitting in the chair on the other side of the room facing her. She froze in tracks, staring at the person facing her.

They got into her home.

They came to get her.

 _How can you possibly not check a room before you enter it, Lauren?!_

* * *

 **I would love to hear your thoughts and comments and ideas for this story. Thanks for reading.**


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